“Nothing optional—from homosexuality to adultery—is ever made punishable unless those who do the prohibiting (and exact the fierce punishments) have a repressed desire to participate.  As Shakespeare put it in King Lear, the policeman who lashes the whore has a hot need to use her for the very offense for which he plies the lash.”

~Christopher Hitchens

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After a seriously intense hour-long cock-teasing session (with no release):

Him:  What nationality are you?

Me:  Supposedly I’m a mix of German, French and American Indian.

Him:  I can see the Indian.

Me:  What do you mean?

Him:  You’re a warrior!

*sigh*  Warms the cockles of my (twisted but sweet) Fem Dom heart.

Although, I will say, college boys do like to flirt and if I gave them even half a chance … well, you know.  And if I told any one of them that I was a Phone Sex Operator?   He’d be showing up for “tutoring” at 2 am on a Saturday night/morning.

Oh, and did I mention I just got over a miserable bout of pneumonia?  And now my doctor thinks (THINKS) I may have some chronic respiratory problem.  Let’s just hope she’s full of you know what.  She was opining, after all, over the phone.  I’m supposed to give it (“it” being my scratchy throat & lingering aftereffects) some time (about a month) and “let’s see how it goes and then we’ll take it from there.”  Let’s hope it’s true that time does, indeed, heal all woulds.

I am taking calls as much as I can, but quite honestly my throat is still recovering, so that a stretch of exploiting wimpy wankers, pantifying (just added that to my dictionary ‘cuz it should be a word) sissy bois (another add), teasing chronic strokers (OMG! strokers is another add … this dictionary is extremely puritan),  beguiling and discomfiting cuckolds and really just doin’ what comes naturally (for me ;-D), causes my throat to rebel and I have to take time off to be absolutely quiet and medicate.  So that is why as of late (to answer your question Mr. Tom) you find me available, then not available, and then available again, with no discernible pattern.  I really have no other choice right now.

In between all of this, I have been working on graphics for my NiteFlirt listings, which I do believe have turned out ratherish fabulous.  Now if I can just get someone to help me figure out the HTML to get them where they need to be.  I do have an absolute sweetie who usually helps me with this stuff, but he kinda-sorta has been tied up.  Not by me.

Since I was so sick for so long, my usually pristine environment just isn’t up to my standards, so I am having my housekeeper do  a deep cleaning tomorrow and definitely won’t be available for calls.  Wednesday is iffy,  as I have a dental appointment (whitening) which I’m trying to reschedule, but may not be able to.  From Thursday into and through the weekend … the coast clear.  Except for the  detritus left behind from the seriously fucked up fantasy phone sex in which I plan to immerse myself and you.  *wink*

Oh … some good news of sorts.  Once I get my pages fixed and pretty at NiteFlirt (should be at least my Monday, and hopefully sooner), I will be running a 5 FREE MINUTES Spring Phone Sex Special both for new callers and my loyal pets.  And I also plan to run some daily specials here and there with discounts.  So make sure to stay tuned.

xo, Angela

 Taking Off Emily Dickinson’s Clothes
by Billy Collins

First her tippet made of tulle,
easily lifted off her shoulders and laid
on the back of a wooden chair.

And her bonnet,
the bow undone with a light forward pull.

Then the long white dress, a more
complicated matter with mother-of-pearl
buttons down the back,
so tiny and numerous that it takes forever
before my hands can part the fabric,
like a swimmer’s dividing water,
and slip inside.

You will want to know
that she was standing
by an open window in an upstairs bedroom,
motionless, a little wide-eyed,
looking out at the orchard below,
the white dress puddled at her feet
on the wide-board, hardwood floor.

The complexity of women’s undergarments
in nineteenth-century America
is not to be waved off,
and I proceeded like a polar explorer
through clips, clasps, and moorings,
catches, straps, and whalebone stays,
sailing toward the iceberg of her nakedness.

Later, I wrote in a notebook
it was like riding a swan into the night,
but, of course, I cannot tell you everything -
the way she closed her eyes to the orchard,
how her hair tumbled free of its pins,
how there were sudden dashes
whenever we spoke.

What I can tell you is
it was terribly quiet in Amherst
that Sabbath afternoon,
nothing but a carriage passing the house,
a fly buzzing in a windowpane.

So I could plainly hear her inhale
when I undid the very top
hook-and-eye fastener of her corset

and I could hear her sigh when finally it was unloosed,
the way some readers sigh when they realize
that Hope has feathers,
that reason is a plank,
that life is a loaded gun
that looks right at you with a yellow eye

____________________________________________________

I’ve previously shared some of my favorite Billy Collins poetry with you (both HERE and HERE).  He’s just so damn good and he certainly knows his Emily well, I’m sure you’ll agree.

Or…

… perhaps this account is absolutely true, Mr. Collins having utilized his secretly endowed super power of time travel to journey back to the 1800s where he cornered Ms. Dickinson in some secluded nook of her family’s home and had his way with her.

Makes sense to me.

xo, Angela

We will open the book. Its pages are blank.
We are going to put words on them ourselves.
The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year’s Day.

~ Edith Lovejoy Pierce

Maybe it points to a developing maturity, but this is the first year I really “got” how important celebrating the end of one year and the beginning of another really is.  It’s never been about the partying for me (my first two years as a legal adult taught me the best place to be is home on New Year’s Eve), but I just never felt the deep connection to the past or awe for the future suddenly upon my doorstep.

Things are changing in my life, and Christmas this year — usually my favorite holiday — was somewhat bittersweet.  I looked around at the people I love, this family who with all their foibles and eccentricities have always been the comfort and joy of my holidays, and knew that there is a very real possibility some or even all of them might not be with me next year.

My big brother is taking early retirement to work on an internet business with his wife and plans (when he can sell his loft for a reasonable price) to move across the country.  My mother, who’s been in a wheelchair these past few years after suffering a stroke, seems to be rapidly going downhill.  The familiar patterns of my life could be drastically rearranged come 2013.

Or the Mayans could be right and as of 12/21/2012 we could all be fucked, and not even make it to 2013.  I actually do think — considering the worldwide natural disasters, social discontent and economic upheaval of recent years — the potentiality is there and maybe even is necessary as a mechanism for cleansing the slate in preparation for spiritual and social progression.

So, yeah, I’ve been contemplating, introspecting, considering, imagining and evaluating quite a bit this past week.  I don’t have answers, nor do I want answers.   I just want to be present and accountable.  I want to be always grateful.  To be grateful and resolutely confident that the world’s story unfolds as it should.  As does the adventure of my life and the adventure of the lives of those I love.

……………………………………………………..

So, was that heavy enough for you?  Well, I meant every word.

BUT …

Do not think for a moment I’ve abandoned my title, Kinkstress Princess of the Internet*, nor the inherent responsibilities of holding said title.  I did get around, I do get around … and, apparently, so do you.  “You” being my Phone Sex Clients, FemDomme Bitch Boys, Chronic Masturbators, Cross-Dressing Trollops et al.  Because I did run a New Year’s Eve Discount and you showed up in droves.

If you’re not a client, you are not on my NiteFlirt email list and did not receive the special notice.  That was not my intent, as I planned on announcing it here at Zen so that everybody who wanted to could take advantage of my most-fab KISS KISS BANG BANG discount.  Unfortunately, there were technical issues with my hosting company yesterday and — with the calls coming so fast and hard (not to mention the guys *wink*) I couldn’t out-wait the issues to get a post put up.  So here’s kinda-sorta what you would have seen:

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Ring in the New Year with Angela: $1.00 OFF per minute!

As many of you know, I love spending a cozy New Year’s Eve at home.  As is my tradition, I’m dressing up in my red stockings & heels, popping a bottle (or maybe even two bottles) of champagne and settling in front of my fireplace for a night of indulgence.

I’d love to hear from you. Call to talk dirty, or tell me the New Year resolutions you will be breaking next week, or admit how drunk you are, or whisper your perfect kinky fantasy, or drink a New Year’s toast with me, or even just to shoot the breeze.  If we’ve not spoken before, or if we haven’t spoken for a while … don’t be shy.  While I love being pampered, I do love treating my callers every once in a while, and this is a great night to do it.

You must call this listing to get the discount. 

or call direct:    1-800- 863-5478  ext. 0331122

……………………………………………………………………………………………

But as I said, the boys who did receive the emails did keep me busy, busy, busy.   So busy that I had a line of eight lined up waiting for their turn at 2:30 a.m.  I finally had to call it a night.

But is that fair?  The email went out late, this website wouldn’t cooperate so I could announce it here and then there are the guys who were otherwise engaged and couldn’t have called anyway.

Soooo ….

Here’s the good news:  I am extending the discount throughout tonight and for as much of tomorrow as I can.  At a certain point, I do get tired and the vocal cords do get a little raw and I have to take a break.  But I do promise to be available as much as possible these two days.   So call your Mistress and give her a little sugar.  She just might give you some right back. *wink*

xo

*Term bestowed upon me by a certain gentleman caller.  I kinda-sorta like it and think I’ll keep it.

]]> http://www.zenfetish.com/2011/12/24/happy-holidays/feed/ 6 http://www.zenfetish.com/2011/12/22/reindeer-games-vs-phone-sex/ http://www.zenfetish.com/2011/12/22/reindeer-games-vs-phone-sex/#comments Thu, 22 Dec 2011 20:57:57 +0000 Angela http://www.zenfetish.com/?p=1425 Would Ya? Should Ya? Could Ya?

That’s gross.  Do you talk to a lot of perverts?

You do what?  How about a date?

Oh my God!   Does your family know what you do?

I have the perfect fantasy for you: Lactation!

 Do you get a lot of fetish calls?  You know, I have this thing for feet.

More or less, these are some of the predictable reactions I get when revealing my avocation to the un-ordained. While some (including myself) might argue that phone sex has gone at least somewhat mainstream in recent years, it is still not a topic you want to be bringing up at cocktail parties. From the sincerely curious to the smugly judgmental to the stupidly horny, assumptions are going to be made. Not that I can complain too loudly.  I’ve surely been boorish, myself, a time or two (ok, maybe three or four) to make unfounded assumptions. Yet, having experienced these ignorance-based reactions first hand, I cannot help but cringe when pushed into a corner by the overly-meddlesome.

When I abandoned my dream of graduate school (just temporarily,momma, I promise) and left behind my burgeoning corporate career to do phone sex (say it isn’t so, you wretched, wanton girl), my sister, bless her beautiful heart and bourgeois tendencies, bought me a mug, which on the outside wryly asks the question, “I went to school for years to learn to do THIS?”  And, beloved sister of mine, I do cherish that mug. Notwithstanding my office supply fetish, it proudly sits–next to my Rolodex–the container-of-choice for my ink pens, letter opener, markers, nail files, orange sticks and sundry miscellanea. I cherish it because it reflects the reverent humor, easy flexibility, mutual validation, and even quirky spirituality that is so integral to whom I am and what I do both personally and professionally.

With the advent of the Internet and attendant proliferation of independent PSOs (phone sex operators), the definition of good Phone Sex has become increasingly subjective.  Simultaneously, as our world hyper-rapidly expanded, erotica and pornography flourished, and the division between fantasy and reality blurred.  Both a blessing and a curse, it can be quite exhilarating, yet, confusing and even a cause for dissent amongst its practitioners.  Some like it hot, some like it cold.  It’s that kind of thing.

(On a side note, I would think that–if nothing else–the very nature of this non-monogamous and inexhaustible Internet would be self-instructive: There REALLY is room for everybody. We have more than enough do-gooder types [You know the profile: The hypocrite who swears he is pure as the driven snow; yet, he only cums when fucking his wife by imagining her being raped by a double-shlonged reindeer.] doing their best to legislate, control, constrain, and restrict this last vestige of true freedom of expression. Just remember this: When we protect and champion each other, we protect and champion ourselves.)

Now, where were we? Oh, yes! So you’re in the mood for some wicked merrymaking.  You’ve checked out the bathroom wall at the corner gas station, and though you could swear it used to be right there above the condom dispenser, there is no graffiti, “For a good time call Cocksucker Cathy.”   With  that avenue close, you decide to take the leap and call a Phone Sex Operator!

You want Phone Sex and you want it NOW! You want it? We got it! Hot phone sex, fantasy phone sex, domination phone sex, kinky phone sex, dirty phone sex, role-play phone sex, nasty phone sex, erotic phone sex, humiliation phone sex, tease & denial phone sex.

Phone Sex! Phone Sex! Phone Sex! … and even more Phone Sex!

How do you possibly weed through it all? How do you find the perfect first connection in all of that clutter? Well, brother, quite frankly, you don’t. You just say eeny meeny miney moe and take that leap of faith. After all, brother, how hard art thou? I’m a firm believer in going by the seat of your pants (or crotch of your pants) when things just need to get done (or you need to get done).

Basically, you are entering a marketplace as a consumer.  Just like you might, time and again, visit the grocery store until you find the perfect cookie, you may have to shop for a while before you find, HER, the Phone Sex Chick that blows your mind and load like no other can.  While that can be a royal pain in the butt, I guarantee that — until you find her –you will have lots of dirty fun along the way.  It’s  sort of like dating. It will cost you the price of a few burgers and shakes, but who’s counting dollars & dimes when you’re stealing some kisses and even copping a few feels along the way?  And the pay off is that sooner or later you’re gonna get lucky!

Ho, ho, ho …  oh so fucking lucky.

Take my word on it.

xo, Angela

All hail the great Claus

Or at least bend over.

‘Cuz it’s not your stocking he wants to fill.

Certainly, here and there, you stray.   But, hey!  If you can’t cheat on your Phone Sex Goddess (*rolling eyes*), what would this world be coming to?  It is a man’s nature, after all, to sniff around … a genetic flaw of sorts.  You just can’t help yourselves.  The salient fact is that most of you (not all of you — I can only be so awesome, after all *wink*) scurry right back, seeking both absolution and asylum within the folds of my skirt.

Still … wherever thou dost ramble, with whomsoever thou dost rollick, whatever mischief with which you find yourself otherwise occupied, you still keep me posted.  A quick call, an email, a nice 5 star review or even a few words here at this blog.  Do NOT EVER think I don’t notice, because I certainly do.  Even when I’m lost in Phone Sex Diva self-absorption (blame it on the Leo in me) I always feel indulged by you:

PQS sends me his favorite “Best of Bad Writing” from the Bulwer-Lytton website:

“As the young officer studied the oak door, he was reminded of his girlfriend — for she was also slightly unhinged, occasionally sticky, and responded well to being stripped and given a light oiling.”

(to which he added:  hahahahahahaha)

And did you happen to catch is ode to me/homage to Poe here at Zen on Halloween?  He’s so fuckin’ smart:

T’was on Halloween it seeming, then did I, perchance, while dreaming
Come to view on my screen gleaming, tangled, tortured lines of woe!
As I read them, my mind streaming, horrors from a night’s bad dreaming
Assaulted me, like bat wings teeming! Anguished lines from E. A. Poe
“It must be Angie,” thought I musing, “posting rhymes from E. A. Poe!”
“Insight from a talking crow!”

But then thought I, my spirit keening, perhaps there is a hidden meaning,
A runic message intervening, buried midst this tale of woe.
But finding none, I vaguely wondered, could it be poor Poe had blundered?
What’s the chance, one in a hundred, that man could banter with a crow?
Trading anecdotes and wisdom, wisdom with a coal-black crow?
T’is unlikely, that I know.
HDB, with his signature rat-a-tat delivery,  always follows up our kinky conversations with a generous gratuity and “Thank You” email:

1. “Catatonic and it’s all your fault.”
2. “Toes curled on that one.”
3. “Can’t move. Happy boy.”

… and always 5 star reviews that go something like this:

***Pop. Sizzle. Pow. Angela rocks the stratosphere and every man in it.

… and sometimes a funny quote two:

“I haven’t left my house in days.
I watch the news channels incessantly.
All the news stories are about the election;
All the commercials are for Viagra and Cialis.
Election  -  erection  -  election  -  erection.
Either way we’re getting fucked! ~ Bette Midler.”

The Prof? He’s always short & sweet & to the point and ever so charming:

Oh lovely wonderful you.  Off to buy paint, grocery shop, etc. but ONLY thinking of you.

and consistently, creatively smitten:

Your personality is …  eclectic, electric, esoteric, erudite, epiphonous … erotic, enigmatic, elegant … so many e’s, so little time … and that’s just one letter of our elegant English.  love from The Prof, whose middle name starts with e.

Then there’s my cherished Little N:

Dear Angela,

I’m not writing this note to tell you that I adore you (you know that already) that I admire the imagination and dedication you put into what you do (you know that already) or that I consider the fantasies you weave for me so skillfully to be like healing balm on my deepest desires and aches. No, telling you that might be tainted with horny-ness and that joyous tingle that spreads through my body whenever I start talking with you.

I’m writing this note to tell you that I occasionally just plain and simple need to talk with you just about anything, and to hear your voice and laughter and share the details of my travails as you do with yours. I’m writing to tell you that I simply love talking with you, because you have a gift for making me feel human and capable and resilient.

Somehow, after a friendly chat with you I feel that those things that bothered me are not insurmountable after all. And when that’s coming from the very talented lady who knows my deepest and most convoluted fantasies, the patient lady who has experienced my soul more emotionally naked than any other woman on earth, life does feel better and less difficult.

Please rest assured – this is not a fantasy-sex-fueled infatuation, this is pure gratitude. Gratitude with a capital G. To be able to speak with a grown-up, in depth, with nothing held back, is not only a rare pleasure, but something that as adults, we should have the luck to experience with at least one person on this earth. And if we do experience this great pleasure, we need to take a deep breath, let the blessed oxygen molecules have the time to enter every dusty brain cell, exhale slowly and say: thank you. Thank you for the pleasure of knowing a tiny bit of you, thank you for our time on the phone, this time for just a casual chat, shooting the breeze, and thank you for your time and your ear.

Oh, and lest I forget, let me say this, and how do I phrase this delicately?- When we get down and dirty and nasty and you deftly interpret and delicately flesh out one of my fantasies and run it through me, my cock overflows and shoots big gobs of thick come in heart-stopping intensity. You make me jerk off and come like no one else. And you heal me. You heal me. Until I come back for my sweet medicine again, to my fantasies where all aches are healed and all cravings are satiated, to that place where you reign supreme, like a wise Empress. Because there is no one quite as good and unique and wickedly creative and artful and understanding as you.

You are awesome, babe. Just sayin’.

Yours, Little N.

A smattering of phone sex reviews (because, believe it baby, I DELIVER a 5 STAR Phone Sex Experience:

• Thank You so much, Mistress Angela! I do adore You .. and I do belong to You!
• Absolutely amazing. Really takes the time to dig into what makes your fantasy great and goes crazy with it.
• Angela, you are amazing. You took my few whispered sentences, and built an amazing fantasy around it. You are understanding, patient, and have an amazing memory when it comes to people’s shifting likes and dislikes. Thank you!
• One you go Angela, everyone else is jut plain vanilla.
• I gave Angela the set up, and she picked everything up quickly to give me a pitch-perfect rendition of my own little deviant fantasy. Great call!!
• Its a bUmPy ride
• as always, mind and load blowing – truly a thinking man’s siren, ASL is not satisfied with you wrecking your vessel on the stony shore, you’ll drive your boat full steam ahead and enjoy every bit of the tumultuous landing

So, yeah, I’m paying attention and lovin’ you guys to pieces.

xo, Angela

*** FYI: I have been trying to be available for calls as much as possible, but having picked up three tutoring gigs (parents panicking as finals loom) while redesigning my NiteFlirt pages (hoping to have everything done by the first of December, but that remains to be seen) and preparing to revamp this blog and my other Phone Sex Websites — well, I’m up to my nose in busy, busy busy.  Of course, I’m not complaining as hyper-activity does keep my Nipples hard.   Obviously all this activity is interfering with my blogging, but I will strive to be more consistent.  Be patient with me and watch for lotsa positive and naughty changes early into the New Year.  xoxoxo

I’ve been telling you guys this forever!

♥ found via Remittance Girl’s Tweet/tumblr