Quelf

“Give yourself a wedgie,” the card reads.  “Keep it for two turns, or move your piece back 10 spaces on the board.”

I stare at the card in disbelief.  REALLY?!  The first card that I get in this crazy, truth-or-dare-like game, and it wants me to pull my underwear into my butt crack?!

My boyfriend looks over my shoulder, reads the card, and shrugs.  “Do it,” he says.

I sigh, and turn to whisper in his ear.  His twin brother shouts from the other end of the table, “We don’t have any secrets!  Say it loud enough for all of us to hear!  Otherwise, he’ll just tell us later!”

I am already weirded out about meeting my boyfriend’s twin brother.  I mean, I dated a twin before, but it’s still weird to look at someone who resembles your lover, but isn’t him.  ESPECIALLY when that man (the twin) is married to someone else, who is also at the table.  Along with the boyfriend’s sister, other brother, and his girlfriend.

On top of meeting all these people at once—and, oh yes, this is our first meeting—we’re playing this outrageous board game.

The girlfriend excuses herself from the table and waddles to the couch.  She’s five months pregnant, with her sweatpants rolled down under her baby belly and a tight tank top straining over the top.  She picks up her Kindle and starts reading.

The wife asks her, “What are you reading?”

“50 Shades of Gray,” she answers.

Everyone at the table laughs.  Leave it to the fourth time single mother to read a bondage and domination sex novel between cigarettes at a family gathering.

Though she provided a momentary distraction from the game, it couldn’t last.  All eyes turn to me expectantly.

“Well?” someone asks.

“Do it,” Boyfriend says.

My cheeks burn; they must be blazing red.  So much for charming his family, I think.  So much for making a great first impression!  I FINALLY meet a great guy, and when I get to meet his family, I get THIS card!  FML!

I read the card aloud, “Give yourself a wedgie.  Well, I can’t, because I’m wearing a g-string,” I tell the table.  Literally.  I am facing the table, talking to it, because I cannot look at his sister, sister-in-law, brother, or especially not my boyfriend’s twin!

The twin laughs!  “Show me!  I want proof!!” he says.

I turn to my boyfriend, silently begging him to stand up for me.

Boyfriend says, “Show them.”

So I stand up, turn around, lift the hem of my shirt, and pull down the top of my jeans, revealing the top of my hot pink, satin g-string underwear.

That’s right: hot pink.  Satin.  G-string.

“Show me the rest of it!” Twin said.

“Shut up!” his wife said.

And THAT was how I met the family.

Cheers!

This has been a throwback to 2011. 

PS. The same boyfriend is featured in “24 Ways to Ruin a Romantic Vacation” and “Don’t Speak to The Norms That Way.”

50 Shades of Naughty Nadia

 

50ShadesofNN

“Can you show me how to be a dominatrix?” Trixie’s email said.

I stared at it.  WTF, Sunshine?!  There are sooo many things wrong with that sentence.

The email continued, “John said that you offered to teach his wife, so he figured that you could teach me.  What should I do?”

I considered telling the bitch to fuck off.  Seriously.  But since I have a new Boy Toy and I’m getting laid on a regular basis, I decided to be nice.

Nice.  Shudder.  That’s like being, “Normal,” –not something I strive to be.

Ok, so I decided to be as nice as I could be.  Or, nicer than I could have been.

Fuck it, I hate labels.

I emailed her back, “Trixie, you and I are not friends.  I was friends with John’s wife, before he left her for you.  So while I could teach you how to dominate him, I will not being doing so.  Have a great day!”

That should have closed the topic.  As I see it, she asked for a favor.  I said no.  Aren’t people allowed to say no to favors?  After all, it is called, “Asking.”  Otherwise, it would be called, “Demanding.”  If someone demanded a favor from me, I might still say, “No.”  That’s how I fucking roll.

Deal with it, Trixie.

But she didn’t.  She pitched a temper tantrum.  Gee, with the name, “Trixie,” you would expect her to be so sweet & innocent!  Maybe she should’ve been named, “Salome.”

(Get it, Jules?  Too soon?)

John had been a friend of mine for years.  I tried to remain neutral when he and his ex went their separate ways, really—I didn’t call him a fucking cheater once.

Ok, maybe once.  We hugged it out.  But that’s a whole diff story.

So, to get my friend John off my back, I’ll help Trix out.  I have a feeling that she won’t be able to—how should I say it?—perform anyway.  Just look at step 1.

  1. As a dominatrix, you have to stand tall and own the room.  Who wants to listen to a timid mouse or a sweet pussy cat?  I’d eat them for lunch.  <whip-pow>
  2. Know what you plan to do, and have the key items close at hand.  I prefer silk ties to handcuffs (less abrasions) and a good blindfold.  Slaves always try to peek, but are secretly disappointed if they can.  Ever find out what you’re getting for Christmas, before Christmas day?  Ya, it’s like that.  You may really want what’s coming, but you wish that it had been a surprise.
  3. More props. Candle wax.  Ice cubes.  Clothes pins.    Ah, the fun that you can have with ordinary household items!  And the places that you can put them: nipples, lips, and…
  4. Talk the talk. A dom doesn’t ask, she tells, “You like that, don’t you?!  I said, YOU LIKE THAT!!”  Most people respond to that.  “Yes, Mistress!” is the correct reply.  Unless you’re doing it right – then they’ll be panting too hard to answer.  You can spank them for that, too—they’ll thank you later.
  5. Sensory deprivation. Blind folds and/or headphones cut off one or two senses, heightening the others.  Ever been alone in bed, and you hear a noise?  Every hair on your body stands on end.  You can feel the darkness around you.  Your heart beats faster, your ears strain to hear more while your eyes try desperately to make out the shapes around you?  Ya, it’s like that.  Only, better.
  6. Always, always, ALWAYS discuss things in advance. Some people get off on being humiliated, like, “You’re a very naughty boy!”  FYI, that turns me   Tell me I’m gorgeous, tell me I’m one of a kind, tell me I that you can’t stop thinking about my hot bod…mmmmmmm…. What were we talking about?
  7. Have a safe word. Like, DUH.  Some peeps like to mumble, “No, don’t, stop,” which might sound a lot like, “Don’t stop!”  Really, Chris, that’s what I heard–don’t blame me if you couldn’t sit down for a week.  (He liked it, really.)  If you have a safe word like, “New York,” or “Pineapple”—you know, things that you don’t normally say in bed—then there will be no question about when someone is calling a time out.
  8. Pro tip: if you’re going to use a gag, put a brightly colored ball in your lover’s hand. When he drops it, that means, “STOP NOW.”  I do recommend against ball gags; they’re dangerous.  And if you’re getting tips from me, you’re not ready for the big time, Trixie.
  9. Dress for Success: If you show up in your Mickey Mouse undies, your bottom (slave) isn’t likely to take you seriously.  Howevs, if you dress in leather or latex, then you are much more likely to get his attention.
  10. Surprises are for idiots. See rules number 6 and 7.  Also, if you show up in my bedroom wearing black leather and carrying a whip, I’m more likely to taser your ass then play along.  Unless your name is Professor Mercury and then…Hey, just kidding!  Jules called dibs!  Though he does sound yummy.  <wink>

If you’re serious and want to know more, there are websites that you can visit and movies to watch: 9 and a Half Weeks has some good ideas, though it breaks the last rule, so don’t follow it too closely.  Same with its sequel, Wild Orchid, and the book, The Story of O.  That last one has a really sick ending, spoiler alert, but some of it is good.

For the record, I didn’t read 50 Shades.  Shrug.  Why read it, when you can live it instead?

BDSM = Bondage, Domination, Sado-Masochistism.  Sadists get off on causing people pain, while masochists get off on receiving the pain.  Eh, to each his own.  I’m more of a heightened-pleasure kinda gal.  If you’re having fun, and I’m having fun, let’s do it some more.  Real pain or real blood—no thank you.

There, Trixie, quit your bitching.  And FYI, John has a foot fetish.  Let him paint your toenails, put on a tall pair of heels, and he’ll lick your toes.  He’ll be moaning in ecstasy before he gets to the last little piggie.

Oh, he didn’t tell you all that?  There, I did you a favor without you even having to ask.  You’re welcome.

John, see that?  I was nice.  Are you happy?  No, wait—You are happy now.  Because I said so.  <whip pow>

Pass the whiskey.

I’m filling in for Jules while she’s studying for her final Final.  That is, her last Final Exam of her Graduate school career.  To hear her tell it, it’s like scaling Mount Everest.  Good luck, Jules—knock ‘em dead!  Or, break a slide rule—uh, whatever, we know you can do it!  —Naughty Nadia