silver lining

Every day I fall in love with my life all over again.

The last week has been awhirl with going to see Avenue Q with E, having a getting-to-know-you date with T, rope bondage fun with TB and some really fun work sessions that have served to excite and inspire me all over again. Highlights have included:

-giggling short but sweet pillow fights
-dark confessions whispered as hot skin touches hot skin
-geeky client that looked like a British JoCo
-incredibly delicious tuna dinners
-decorative bruising
-finding perfect holiday presents
-sexy new underpants
-lots of snuggling to sleep with sexy people
-meeting my future husband at a munch
-free cake
-getting chocolates from a client just because!

Today I had two new clients, and they were both fun in different ways. The first was not used to dungeon equipment or kinky play- he normally went with fairly vanilla stuff. Well, he was a bit scared, but he trusted me to open his eyes to the possibilities of kinky sensual play... and he loved it. The second was on a self-discovery journey and was eager to try new things, so that was fun too! I love being able to introduce people to how varied and colorful and amazing sex can be if you get creative with it.

So, while there's that tint of sad, it's not all mopes for Kittyville. And I'll try to elaborate on the sexytimes later.


full of meh.

Every day feels like a weight, heavy in my heart, adding to this sense of depression I keep trying to push back, I keep trying to ignore. I don’t want to go back to California. Sure, it’s a great place, filled with amazing people, and it’s creative and inspiring and NOT LONDON.

It’s not easy to be a sex worker in San Francisco. First there’re the laws that keep you constantly looking over your shoulder and trying to work out if someone’s trying to pull something with you. Entrapment may be illegal but that doesn’t make it rare. The cops treat sex workers like we’re subhuman, more often than not, with the support of a community that keeps being told that decriminalization would ruin neighborhoods and “think of the children”. There’s how you can’t specify what you offer and don’t offer, because if you’re too specific and a cop is on the line you could be arrested without ever taking your clothes off. There’s the fact that because it’s illegal places that are reputable to advertise on can set their price as high as they’d like, cause who would you complain to?

Add to that clients who constantly have reinforced that hookers = drug addicts = subhuman, and you have clients who feel it’s their prerogative to insult you, threaten you, put their hands on you in nonconsensual ways. It’s hard to love your job when your clients treat you like shit day in and day out. And even harder when there’s nothing you can do about it, which is the way it feels in the States. I remember getting texts from a guy saying wasn’t it tragic how many hookers died every year, or phone messages telling me that I was a fat pig who didn’t deserve to get fucked for free, much less paid for it. Horrible things that people would never imagine saying to someone’s face gets thrown at sex workers.

I haven’t dealt with any of that shit here. The one guy who was bothering me about my sex work was taken seriously by the police. Other than that, people only contact you if they actually want to see you for a session, not just to take out their misogyny on someone. Such a little thing, but it means a lot to me. I enjoy my work more here because I get treated with respect.

Having had that, going back to trolling for substandard punters who will subsequently treat me like a commodity instead of a person providing a service is just a depressing thought. I’m trying not to think about it much. With that in mind, expect a much perkier entry soon.


a comment from someone close to me

After my last blog I got this email from someone who's close to me and knows quite a bit about how I act... she said some great shit, and with her permission I'm going to post it here for reference.

Hi Kitty-

I'm sending this email rather than as a comment, because i don't know what you might want to share.

But yeah- your concerns are valid. You do have an ability to push people; it's both choices you make (in my experience), and a level of charisma you have which is not necessarily intentional but which is nonetheless effective.

This may or may not be what someone wants in a pro setting.

This may or may not be what someone wants in a personal setting.

Still: it's worth thinking about both situations, and what your personal boundaries are- because relying on others to implement boundaries is NOT, in my opinion, safe for you; you are too capable of overwhelming them even unintentionally.

Have you watched all the Buffy eps? One of the ones that troubles me- not so much in terms of the ep, but in terms of people's response- is the one where Spike almost raped Buffy. See- I think even characterizing it as that is somewhat unfair; as far as I could see, he was acting in what passed for normal in their pretty unhealthy relationship- and once he saw that THIS TIME she really DID mean "no," he backed off. Because all those other times- she did NOT really mean No, even when she said it.

And that's what makes it complicated. Personally- I think everyone should respect ALL No's, and if that leads to the nay-sayer being frustrated... well, isn't that a valuable lesson on taking ownership of one's desires??? In my opinion, that could be serious edge-play. :)

So: I rather favor NOT overwhelming people even- or especially- when that's what they want. But that's a personal choice.

I do think that if one knows one is able to overwhelm, one ought to take that very seriously and try to use this power only for good.


This gives me a lot to ponder. So, hopefully I'll post something fluffy and sexy for y'all for the holidays while I mull this one through.


under pressure

"It's easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission".

Is this true? Is this the way I've been operating? I wonder sometimes if I'm so interested in taking care of my needs and getting what I want that I steamroll over others. Actually, I don't wonder- I know it happens. I'm very sure of myself and what I want, and I think people cave. I mean, I can be very persuasive when there's something I want, and... well, as one of my sweeties said, I tend to take "no" as an opening for discussion.

Bearing in mind the sort of kinks I play with, this isn't ok. It's not something I want to foster in myself. I mean, when someone safewords I respect it, it's not that- I just... I don't know, don't want to cajole people into sex, y'know? It feels too close to rape. In a bad sense, not a sexy sense. And maybe that's where it's confusing- I enjoy the chase, the coquettes who say "oh, I don't know.." when their eyes say "keep talking". I like getting what I want. But I don't want to be that kind of person. If I was a man I would be creepy as hell.

I used to get a sick joy out of manipulation. I used to read books about seduction techniques and would study them like textbooks. I perfected the art of puppy eyes and using people's desires against them. I know how to manipulate people's energy on some level, just not always how to control it. I imagine that's what makes my clients enjoy me... but...

I had hoped I was being more honest. I try to be ethical, I do... I don't know really how to go forward. I know it's not wrong to know what you want and go after it, but how can you be sure, really sure, that other people are with you for the journey? That you aren't just leading them because they can be led?


Dexter makes me wet

"He uses duct tape and plastic wrap".

Coupled with tossing a girl onto the bed for passionate fighting/fucking...

Is it any wonder I love Dexter?

I've been dreaming of duct tape and plastic wrap for the past few weeks. Imagining his flesh straining against the wrap, crinkling lightly as he shifts... the duct tape winding around his legs, his chest, pressed against his lips, his eyes slightly widened, rimmed in black and silver... mm. It makes me wet, imagining him like this, so helpless, as I rub my wetness against the outside of the wrap. The way it slips and slides, the feeling of him stiffening as I rub my clit against him... it never gets OLD, it's new every time. And yet it remains familiar... deliciously familiar.

Season 2, the one I've been watching, has a manifesto in it- Dexter creates a manifesto from bits and pieces of things he finds on the net...

If I had a manifesto, what would it be, exactly? I wonder...



I did two tarot readings, and both came up with similar themes- death, rebirth, renewal after difficult circumstances, being tested to see what you’re made of, exploring your shadows to truly see your light. I suspect this indicates the next few months will be challenging and hard, but that this is where I decide if I am ready to give up old habits and start new ones. This is the sort of thing that will forge me, if I let it.

When one tarot tells you that once, that’s one thing. But when two different styles say the same thing, with some of the same cards, even… it’s a knock on the head to pay attention. Shifting is going to happen. The big question is, then- how will I react?

Well, in my current situation, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I would normally react and how I want to consciously choose to react. I think the hardest thing will be letting go of my anger, making room in my experience for joy, and not at the expense of others. I need to consider if my reasons for my actions are coming from the right place- am I questing towards justice and compassion, or towards revenge and justification?

The last time I felt this way, I went towards revenge. I had felt helpless, vulnerable, uncomfortable, and I wanted to fight back, to re-shield myself. This time, I want to do better. I want to behave in a way I can be proud of. Not a doormat, mind! But I also don’t want to waste my energy, especially this time of year, on something emotionally black and draining. Now is the time for turning that shit around.

How am I going to do that? Well, I think severing contact is an important start. Having any communication be between him and legally appointed people is better. There is nothing to be accomplished through talking to him myself, except for allowing my anger to flame further. Additionally, I think I’m going to take care of myself with baths, massage, and long walks instead of sitting at home stewing- I will spend time with my sweeties and friends instead of wallowing in negativity. And I will attempt to open my heart to love, peace, and compassion, instead of self-righteousness or fury. I think I can do the right thing while still maintaining distance and boundaries.

This is all kind of scary. I know, I know, it’s not really sexy enough for my blog, but it’s important to me, and I welcome support. Growing pains… will they ever cease?


reanimated blog, grrr, argh

So, where did I go for the past couple of weeks..?

I have to admit- it pleased me immensely that the first couple of people to ask me where this blog went were my parents, who said they hoped they were still going to be allowed to read it. Aww! There’s nothing like the support of family to make difficult times easier to swallow- and while we’ve had our ups and downs, I am proud to call them my family.

I’ve also gotten emails from people I don’t know hoping to see this blog again, which was really inspiring. Thank you, guys! And thanks, especially, to my sweeties, who have been a huge support and have given me a lot of love and assistance in the past couple of weeks.

Basically, what happened was that my ex-housemate informed me that he knew about my work and proceeded to try to use my blog to intimidate me. I closed down the blog while I was still technically living with him, but now any communication between us will be limited to solicitors- I decided to take his behavior pretty seriously. Because maybe it’s just Alicia and I he tried to strong arm this time, but how many others? And I refuse to change how I live my life because of fear. So there you go!
I figure I’m going to try to take deep breaths and let go. I mean, I’ll follow the legal process, of course, but in the day-to-day I will foster compassion and loving kindness instead of anger. And I will surround myself with my friends and family, chosen and given- because I realized through all this just how lucky I am to have the support of such amazing people and have such incredible resources at my disposal. I am a lucky, lucky girl. And I would rather focus on the blessings I have instead of the source of negativity.

So, after that frightfully hippie statement!...

Seriously, though, I guess this really hit home during Thanksgiving. Spending it in Krakow with some of my chosen family really healed and invigorated me. I have a lot to be grateful for- and while London has been a series of ups and downs, I have definitely grown here- stronger, more rooted, more… whole. Every trial is another fucking opportunity for growth, right? And I thrive.


Return Home, Part 2

So we watched "Crash Pad, Series 1" which was incredibly hot- in general, more so to the gf and I, but TB found stuff to enjoy in it as well. Snuggling together watching porn is a great way to start some play, but they still hadn't negotiated terms yet, so I made sure they talked to each other about what their limits were and what they were interested in. TB was a bit taken aback, as the gf is not physically attracted to him, but she was up for playing together anyway- this is what I love about negotiations, is that while normally you would think "oh, she's not physically into him, so it's a no go", with some negotiation we found she could enjoy him sucking a strap on or her hand, and that my making out with her as he fucked me was ok. We worked it out. ::Grin::

I wish I could tell you it all in detail, but I just remember it in snippets, gasps and moans and wetness and lots of lube-

-his fingers swirling inside me as I wrapped a dental dam/glove around my tongue and let my gf lower herself onto my face
-her giggling and moaning as my gasps and screams vibrated her clit, his hand thrusting inside me
-looking up to see their looks of concentration as my eyes rolled back into my head
-feeling her bucking against my hand as he fucked me
-seeing his cheeks and lips stretched out as she thrust a big butt plug on a strap on harness into his mouth, as his cock slid in and out of my increasingly wet pussy
-her hands wrapped in his hair
-his and her teeth and lips pressed against my neck

It was really fantastic. I was wet enough to leave a spot on the bed, which rarely rarely happens. Snuggling with both of them was lovely, afterwards- a cup of tea and the feeling of being too dizzy because you've had the hydration fucked out of you. Yum.

I don't know what exactly I did right to have this, but I'm grateful. So grateful. And I feel incredibly loved, inside and out. <3


Return Home, part 1

Thursday morning, 8:30 am. I see him at the entrance to the Tube and I try not to run because I’m trying to maintain some sort of cool here. But when I kiss him I feel a glow flame up inside me and even though I’m exhausted I want to devour him. Public transport, however, gets the better of me and the train goes so slowly I lose some of the edge. I’m tired. I didn’t sleep well on the plane, and I know I have to be up at 1pm to go get my results from the STI clinic. But my head is resting on his belly and I know I’m home in a way that resonates throughout my body. I have never been so homesick for a place before.

We’re at his flat and I’m taking my clothes off as he makes me a cup of tea. I’m torn between desires- tea, sleep, him. I choose him for the time being, and reach out as he drops his jeans to the floor. He has to be at work in an hour, we both know that, but a lot can happen in an hour, right? We snuggle, and kiss, and fuck, and everything seems right for the time being. I drift to sleep with my thighs still sticky, half awake when he tells me where he’s left the keys.

I wake up to the alarm and drag myself to the clinic, where they happily inform me I’m 100%. I’m relieved after my scare about some precum near my pussy in a work gig. I’m kind of paranoid about this stuff. They ask me if I need more condoms and think dreamily to the Crown now disposed in the trash back at his, and say “nah”. They rarely have the good condoms anyway, and TB and I have a favorite type.

From there I meet my girlfriend downtown at Leicester Square before going for a drink at my favorite bar, Freud. I kiss her hello and I feel a thrill flare from my lips to my clit. I’m delighted to see her, and to discover she has a table at a local underground comic convention (well, ¼, but still! Pretty awesome). We giggle and have fruity girly drinks after browsing the comic book store- a cocktail, a comic book, and thou, indeed. We even manage to score a table without too much hassle. It feels really good to be back with my sweeties again, and it’s fantastic to be able to hang out with them both together.

We meet up with TB for some Chinese food at a place that starts us out whispering, it’s so quiet. Somehow within minutes of our arrival the volume raises to a reasonable level, so we relax. TB and the girlfriend play ro-sham-bo for what set menu we’re going to be eating- she wins, and it’s crispy duck for everyone. WAY more food than is needed for us, however, so we have loads of leftovers. We tease TB about his paranoia about reheated rice (which, he later proves, is not unfounded- I like a boy who does his research) and head back to his to watch some of the new porn I’ve collected from my trip to Good Vibes in Boston. That’s, of course, when things get really interesting- but that’s for another entry.



"I wear my skin only as thin as I have to, armor myself only as much as seems absolutely necessary. I try to live naked in the world, unashamed even under attack, unafraid even though I know how much there is to fear."

-Dorothy Allison
from Skin: Talking About Sex, Class, & Literature

I really like this quote. I saw it on a LJ friend's journal and considered how appropriate it is for how I struggle to be- just shielded enough to be safe, but open and raw enough to allow for the hard growth. I never want to be armored. I will wear my heart on my sleeve like a trophy, a badge- I fought hard to put it there, and I'll fight harder to keep it there. You have to be really tough to be vulnerable.