Monday, November 3, 2014

Halloween 2014 part 2

This entry follows up the last one, about my adventures on Halloween as Alice in Wonderland this year.  The previous post spoke of disappointments, this part does not.  This part speaks of my greatest adventure to date.

To begin, it was the nails that were killing me.  They always do.  Every year I pre-paint nails, and then waste 15 minutes trying to glue the damn things on.  Easier just to paint my nails, but I love the inconvenience of the claw-like things making it harder to do simple tasks.  A good reminder of that part of being a girl.  But somehow, the glue for these nails had dried in the bottle.  So I am sitting m y car in a parking lot, having pried the spout off the bottle, trying to use the goopy paste to get the nails to stay.  It wasn't very successful.  When I got out of the car, I had 10 sparkling deep red nails.  I got back in 30 minutes or so afterward with none.

The time also got me away from my usual practice of "confidence building" -- doing a series of small steps to get comfortable.  Using an ATM, talking a stroll, things like that.  Realizing the world won't end because I'm in a skirt.  Nope, no time for that.  I had an appointment at 8:40.

What type of appointment could I have?  Pictures.  No seriously, I had set up an appointment with a professional photography company.

That was located in a mall.

Not glamour shots.  Just photos.  I'd done it onine a week ago in a fit of adventure.  Then  I realized it might not go over well just to stroll in as I was, and it was here I had some great help.  An online friend of mine had kindly called earlier the studio earlier that night to help set up the story.  So when I walked in, the rather kind photographer in her 50s understood that I was to return with two sheets at least of pictures of me in costume, in a pose fitting for a girl wearing that costume.  Happily, she was cool.

But I get ahead of myself.   I had to get to the mall.  I'm waiting at a red light, waiting to turn into the place, when I hear"  Hey!"  The truck next to me.  "Hey you.  Allison!" (Allison?)  The car beeps.  What the heck I figure, I look over.  Some trailer park guy looking at me.  "Where is the Halloween store in this mall, dude?"  I try to tell him I don't know as the light changes, and his buddy gasses the pathetic little car they're in.  Great.   Am I going to a ghetto mall?

In my rush to get there in time, I didn't have time to consult a map of the mall on my phone, so here I am walking into the mall, possibly right next to the studio.  Or far distant from it.  Tottering up the sidewalk in my heels, carrying my stuffed bunny, I pass two people who eloquently say nothing.  Heart pounding, I walk up the entrance way and happily a directory is right there.  Unhappily, the studio is on the other side of the triangular mall.  So I go off on a walk.  I did hear several bursts of surprised laughter, and experience many people stoically pretending that there was nothing going of note.  I did have one girl outside a store on the other side of the mall yell out "You are so adorable!  Come get a lollipop!"  I smiled and explained I didn't have time as I continued on into the studio.  The laughter trailed behind me as I walked into the abandoned storefront.

"You're late" she said, smiling a bit.  She was cool.  Got what we were doing, didn't freak out, didn't ignore it.  Thankfully, after checking in, me standing there on sore feet in front of a counter, we were led to the back for some pictures.  We did some on a white background, some on a black.  She suggested the poses, and I complied -- hand on a hip, sticking out my tongue, etc.  I was lectured for not smiling enough at one point, or trying to hide my bunny.  It was wonderful, and I started to relax...especially when  I could sit on the stool and relieve my throbbing calves.   She took about a dozen poses, including one where I precariously went down on one wasn't easy getting back up.  To the right is one of the best.

We made small talk as they were printed up, and after some 25 minutes I was back in the mall, heading to the car.  The mall was shutting down, so there were fewer people, aside from one extended conversation in Spanish as I went by.  One lady told me she hoped I'd been paid a lot to dress like that, while another in the parking lot just told me she liked my outfit.

At that I collapsed into my car, endorphins flooding me.  I can't top this.  Without someone right there with me, Halloween 2014 will go down as tops.  Thanks to my friend who called ahead to ease the path.  I can't wait for 2015...I just don't know how it could get better.

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Halloween 2014

So, Halloween 2014.   Thsi time I'm not going in order.  Saving the best for last.

What was not a roraing success was my trip to a local university.  Last year I had an extended walk in costume and got a small dose of attention.  I was going for more this year, and was prepared.

I was dressed as Alice, per the costume on the right.  I carried a blue purse on my shoulder that matched my outfit and had on a pair of cheap (and painful) Mary Janes with  a two-inch heel.  That would prove to be a bit of a downfall.  I had a wig, and a pretty good makeup job that didn't make me look completely feminine, but was in some ways surprisingly good.  I also carried a stuffed rabbit by the hand.

I'd prepared a sign reading "ask me for a card".  With help from some friend's I'd prepared a series of dares sealed in envelopes and taped to playing cards.  The idea was someone would receive a card upon asking, and I would perform the stunt for them.  They were more about silliness -- singing, and skipping and whatnot.  Sure, I hoped things would snowball into awkward situations with a girl dressed as a cop eager to try out her handcuffs, etc.

But it never really happened.  It took a while to screw up the courage once I arrived at a major public university to even get out of my car.  The roads were filled with hundreds of college kids in various states of inebriation, dressed in costume.  They guys usually went with a couple props and their normal wear, and the girls were usually skin-showing bunnies, cops, Supergirls, or whatnot.  The line from Mean Girls came to mind often.

Eventually I did emerge from the car, and made it about 5 steps before unpinning the sign.  I walked down a ramp that took a lot of skill just to avoid sprawling on my rear, petticoats flying.  I safely made it to the bottom, but the attention was already on me.  "I see you, Alice" called out one girl from a bus stop, teasingly.  "Oh baby" chimed in a male.  I got about six of these almost one atop another, admittedly freaking me out.  Plus my feet were killing.  After about ten minutes, I did hightail it back to the parking lot.  I felt that alone I came across more as a bizarre guy than anything else; if I'd had a companion or two it would have been different.  The best moment, I have to admit, was when a passing car slowed to take a corner and I heard a girl yell "Oh, my god, is that Denny?"  I just waved and shook a bit, and her laughter in response.  "It is!  Hey Denny!"  I still laugh at the thought of Denny hearing that people are saying he spent Halloween tarted up like Alice in Wonderland.

I wasn't comfortable, though and suspect I hit my outer limits on that walk.  I wasn't ready to tackle a crowd by myself, especially unable to move quickly.  Nor was the "lost a bet" excuse going to hold much water.  Plus my feet were killing me.  Though being seen as a girl by a couple dozen catcalling kids might have been exciting to me once, no longer...

This trip had come on top of my dinner.  I had been intending to enter the "dining room" at Wendy's but actually it was locked, so I was stuck in the drive-through.  But I'll tell you, I was a star.  How do I know?  One of the girls at the drive-through said "Alice, you're a star!"  All three people gathered at the window to coo over my costume, and one insisted I park in front so that when it slowed down, they could come take a 'better look at me'.  I did sit there, and the girls did come out and have a chuckle.  Very kind and good-natured.  But that wasn't close to the best thing that happened on Halloween.  For that, you will need to wait until tomorrow, dear readers...

Monday, October 20, 2014

Top One

Terri was right in her earlier comment...Alice is just a better way to go. 

That's me this year for Hallowee -- Alice.   BUT....I would really appreciate some help.  Anything from a silly email to keep my courage up, suggestions, or other support.  I would lvoe to have someone helping out by calling certain places ahead, or scripting some stuff with/for me.   More detail for anyone who answers.  As I ask every year, please email m if you think you can make Halloween what I want it to be, at:

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Top two

Thanks to Terri for the comment recently (I did think about a witch, but didn't end up going in that direction). I have it down to two choices for Halloween.

 The first, which I thought would be costume for a while, was Alice. I've never been Alice, and I
picked up this costume. I thought it looked cute, and had a slight dark edge which I liked. It's cute.   It's a classic girlish costume I haven't done yet, and figured I could walk around with a stuffed rabbit.  A classic costume for the girl I really am.  Done deal, I'd have thought until today.

 On a whim, I also purchased this "Rainbow Dash" costume. Now, I'm not a brony in the least and have never seen the show. However, this costume is so over the top. I wonder if it's so camp it isn't for real -- I mean, it's got everything: many accessories, rainbow tutu, glittery print, suspenders.  You can't see it in this picture, but there is a rainbow tail as well. It's almost too much, anda lot of fun to wear. My worry, dear readers, is people seeing me in the second might figure me for a brony, albeit a courageous one.   Nothing special or worth mocking.  I won't feel as ridiculous in it.

Will that earn me actual humiliation the way Alice will? This girl is undecided. Thoughts?

Sunday, September 14, 2014


Well, time to start thinking about Halloween.  I'm on my yearly crash diet to make sure I can fit into something cute.  In years past, I've been many things for my annual public jaunt, and if you're new to the blog please feel free to look at my past adventures as a:

So, I have some ideas for what I'll wear this year.  To quote an earlier entry, "a good costume gets skulking around in the shadows with this one, a costume of someone who wants to be noticed.  A good costume is cumbersome with you having to worry about stuff getting caught in a door.  Lots of stuff to worry about.  Most importantly, it is ridiculous.   The outfit is SO ridiculous, you can't take the wearer as anything other than someone cute and dismissable."

I'd love to hear your suggestions.

Thursday, August 28, 2014


Okay, true that isn't a word Ashlee has any business knowing.

Nonetheless, I'm amused to see so many teenagers wearing shirts for RUN DMC, Naughty by Nature, or Notorious B.I.G.  I just can't believe these people, especially the girls have any idea who these people are, much less appreciate their work.  Just too funny.

Friday, August 22, 2014

Limiting your writing

I have the beginnings of about seven stories on a file right now.  I don't want to be one of those people who publishes half a story, then doesn't end it.  For instance I had in mind a simple enough story, and I'm on the eleventh page and am not even done with the first day.  And I can feel it slipping away from me; haven't touched it in a couple days.

So question 1 - authors, how do you keep a story under control, and not leaking into more detail and complexity?
2 - readers, would anyone want to skim/proof/edit/suggest based on my current piece?

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

A TG trope come to life

One of the greatest tropes of TG fiction is where the victim is away for a day or a weekend, and comes back and his masculine bedroom is suddenly awash in pink and white.  Just like that -- poof.   Well, these (Russian?) guys actually did that as a prank.  Pretty well done, I'd say.

I love the guy's ultimate reaction....

And another one:

Sunday, August 17, 2014

What happened

Per Susan Rhodes' request, I will transcribe a true account of some of what happened during my dominatrix appointment earlier this month.  This is long and wordy, so I understand if you'd want to skip.

The place was a slightly sketchy part of a city a distance from where I live and work.  I'd made the appointment online and had only communicated by email.  A short time before meeting, I received a text that my wife had seen an email I'd left open and knew about this and was furious.  For various reasons, I regarded that email as simple hazing.  Though the Domme did say she'd confused me with another client who uses the same name, I remain skeptical.  She did say that she was rather of the mind that her client had actually written the email, though -- I guess I can see that.

She was slight, curvaceous, and dressed in a tight and tasteful dress with notable heels.  Once a gentleman friend gave me the once-over and decided I was no threat, she asked for a few minutes to get ready.

I entered with a wide selection of my wardrobe, from undies on out (except one pair I'd left in the dryer, much to the surprise of an unenthusiastic but knowledgeable friend who discovered them).  The Domme selected a padded pink bra, pink panties, zebra-print tank top (through which the bra was a little visible), and a bright yellow miniskirt.  I did have sequined leopard-print shoes.  She chortled mightily at my selection of accessories in my purse, and finished with a couple necklaces and a couple rubber bracelets.

After I changed, the lady sat me down and did my makeup.  She'd ordered me to purchase appropriate foundation (which may have been a test of sorts?), then continued with eyeshadow, powder, lipgloss, and a wig.  She did a pretty good job, though I was a bit disappointed to see the standard stuff used rather than what I'd brought.  She used a better wig than I have, a blonde on that feel to my shoulder blades.  It was kept unstyled, and I'd spend a fair bit of time kind of hiding behind it over the next 90 or so minutes.

We then went into the dungeon.  She mentioned remembering that I liked bondage, which I affirmed.  She had me put my hands behind my back and started attaching some leather cuffs.  That didn't go well.  She couldn't find the keys for the metal cuffs.  So she settled on tying my hands.  Now, I have longer fingers, slim hands, and a lot of flexibility for someone my size.  It's successfully tie me up.  I'm pretty sure I could have gotten out of those in five minutes had I wanted.  But I played along.

Sure it was disappointing to have to play along, but so be it.  I was told to do standard domme things -- she had me practice my walk, and voice, and posture.  Her way was supportive and not critical, and frankly easily pleased.  I was hoping for sharper direction, more serious consequences, but didn't get it.  I guess I trusted her too much (or perhaps expected her to understand my desires too easily) and was left unsatisfied.

This was followed by retying my hands in front of me on a chair to practice my posture.  Domme did say at this point that my portrayal of a girl "my age" was done with a lot of fealty, so much that she laughed.  "You amused a Dominatrix," I remember her saying.  "That isn't easy."  With a slightly persistent interview, I confessed to my celebrity crush, leading to what she called one of her favorite moments.  I was instructed to write "future Mrs. xxxxxxx" ten times on paper.  She said she'd always wanted to have someone do this.  Indeed, she kept it as a souvenir.  She didn't mention my boyish handwriting once, though -- but it isn't easy to write while one's hands are tied.

While chatting, I did get a little annoyed with her lack of direction, so pushed it by untying my hands.  That didn't please her.  Good.  She retied them and had me get into a cage for more conversation.  I was penalized for using the word "exacting" by very very light swatting on my foot while in the cage.  While I was hoping this would introduce a more rigorous and demanding session -- was not to be.  I was released from the cage.  In one humorous moment when I was describing how I hated my parents, she asked if it was because they wouldn't let me shave my legs.  Touché.

This is when I started putting in requests.  I had two fantasies I'd long admired, that I shared.  One is to be blindfolded, dressed, then tied up.  Thus I don't know what I'm wearing until I can't release myself.  She indulged me, sort of.  It was a thrill to be pulling on leggings and a top without knowing which.  But then she took off my blindfold.  What?  I was wearing some colorful leggins under a denim miniskirt, and a tank top that showed my bra straps.  On it was the phrase "troublemaker".  Appropriate, she told me, given my penchant for untying myself.

Finally, I was tied to a chair, final knot hidden behind me.  She did use some lipstick on a second idea I'd had -- one I'm not ready to write down.  Nothing explicit, but nothing too banal either.  The use of the lipstick did ruin that top, by the way.

At the end of the session, we had a pleasant chat as I was going back into male mode, sans makeup (except for a bit of eyeshadow I discovered while in the car.)  We had a pleasant, intriguing conversation.  I'll cop to the fact that I didn't expect a dominatrix to use the word "transgressive" easily.  I won't repeat my last post by summarizing my thoughts or feelings on the issue.  It took me quite some time to decide to go this route -- having found no like-minded persons on this side of the Atlantic Ocean -- and it was an experience I'd always have wondered about had I not done it.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Professional help

Thanks for the kind support from my commentators.  So I did decide to pick up a couple threads going through my head.  I'll start with some truth from my real life.

I went to get professional help today.  No, not that kind.  I went to see a dominatrix.

Now, in some ways that's an admission of defeat to me -- a way of saying one has to pay for something one can't get socially.  But frankly after twenty years of interest and moderate attempts to find a sympathetic person in the same country as me going nowhere, I figured may as well do it at some point before I need to come in on a walker.

So I made arrangements, brought the fee and my wardrobe, and went.

I will admit my main fear was I'd deal with a black-clad yelling harpy straight out of Walmart who was using a friend's college picture.  Such was not the case.  The lady was sympathetic, supportive, patient, and non-judgmental.  She was an intelligent conversationalist, had some decent reference points that showed she pretty well understood my point of view.  She respected my limits, and I felt in the hands of a thoughtful, careful person the whole way through.  It was a surprisingly comfortable experience.


From my point of view, once you're earning a couple hundred or more dollars a session, you need to be prepared. I'd communicated my limits and likes and hopes to her, and it ran my blood cold to hear her say to herself "so what should we do with you..." while I was sitting there.  For that price, every moment should have a plan. If she'd invested 5% of her fee in props for this session we'd discussed a week in advance, it would have been even better.  Nor was I impressed that she couldn't find the handcuffs key and had to use rope instead.  I got out twice.

In fairness we all build fantasies up in our minds.  Once I repeated some hopes I'd mentioned, she picked up on them and somewhat made it part of the session -- but not as strictly as I expected.  There was something a bit unusual that I wanted to try at the end, and she generously accommodated me, even as time ran over.  So I gave her credit for that.

So for anyone reading this, a few suggestions:
-Be clear what you want.  Even if she is playing the "I'm the dominatrix, *I* decide what we do" thing, make it crystal.  She can't read your mind.  Then again, if she refuses to do what you want, that's a tough break.
-Mentally get yourself ready.  I didn't sleep well last night in anticipation, but I carefully ran through how I wanted to be part of this, helping make it a good session.
-Come in respectfully.  My dominatrix was a warm, interesting person, and we had an amiable conversation during the makeup removal stage (which used half a vat of cold cream -- long story).  Dommes are not prostitutes, and need to be treated well.

So I would advise people that a domme is not going to make your fantasies come vibrantly true, but if you've the money, time, and discretion, and no other options, it might be worth it.  When you do the math, it's about twice the rate of phone operators, and a lot more vivid an experience.

Monday, August 11, 2014

Mic check

I stopped posting here months ago.   I may have a couple ideas, stories, etc., built up since then...but is there any audience?  Comment and let me know.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Why I started, why it's quiet

Well, here's the deal.  I started this blog years ago for three reasons:
- To tell a fictional story.  I don't have the attention span for grandiose works, but adding little tidbits every once in a while seemed possible;
- To meet people who enjoyed the same ideas and stories I do, and have conversations.
- To move some of this out of fiction, either by finding "playmates" online, or someone who could serve as a mentor/dom/me in some ways.

So it's been quiet because of a few reasons.  I'm pretty much out of ideas on the fictional side.  I think I've described a series an existence of being kept in a persona through minute and grand methods, a helping of humiliation, and the tiny restrictions that would make this make-believe life wonderfully horrible.

I've met a couple people through this blog, maybe five of them.  Correspondance can be staccato in many cases, as we all have real lives.  I am as guilty as anyone else.

Finally, I have put myself in some humiliating situations, much to my retrospective enjoyment.  However, real life is pretty dominant between schooling, working, and relationships.  In the right circumstances (such as today when I write this) that doesn't prevent indulging this side of me.  At other times it does.

But all this asks, what next?  A good opportunity at Tilted Kilt didn't happen, partially because I had zero comment of encouragement when I mentioned it here.  I think blogs as such may be dying.  This may be one of them.  So barring a seizure of inspiration, I'll be pouring more energy into my caption blog.  You can always email me, but expect longer periods of silence I'd reckon...

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Advice and ideas

So the plan is in two weeks to walk into a Tilted Kilt and reprise my earlier experience.  I'm writing to ask for ideas -- what do I do/say to get the maximum out of this?  Ideas?

Sunday, January 5, 2014


Well, does this count for one of my thirteen?   I noticed the hat on the right on the discount Christmas rack at local pharmacy, and bought it.  When I took it to the cash, the younger cashier said "let me guess, is this for you?"  I know I turned red, but I said "uh, sure.  Yeah, I love crappy music."

"Well, try it on then" she said.

So I did..she laughed and handed me the other items in my bag and I doffed the hat.  Thanks to her though -- now I just can't go in their with anyone I know ever again.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014


In 2014, the real me will have at least 14 encounters with others.   In proper dress.

This gives me plenty of time to get things right.  One of them will be Halloween.

Enter your suggestions for the other 13 here.