Post-Honolulu

I have been thinking about many different things over the past month.

First: Honolulu was fantastic. I went by myself, but the trip was a gift from my r/t Sugar Daddy. He is slightly different from a Money slave; this difference is one of the things I have been thinking about so much.

I am attracted to him. He's young, in fact, he is actually a year younger than me. He is not SuperDuperRich or a devout Capitalist. He is a hot guy that showers me with gifts. He is definitely a variation of the Financial Slave, but he is, none the less, a shade higher on the totem pole than my pigs. The primary difference here is that he is not in any way a Humiliation fetishist, and he is real time.

Money pigs, per se, are usually Humiliation fetishists. For me, certainly. They prefer panting over pictures and obscenely expensive camshows, tease and denial, verbal, psychological and, given the opportunity, emotional abuse. They are usually obsessive, well educated, and successful professionals in their respective fields. They are also frequently in communities where finding a woman like me--Dominant, sexually aggressive, and willing to indulge rare and difficult fetishes (not to mention young and attractive with experience)--is difficult. They are usually in thrall to maleness, which leads, perversely, to a constant hunger for a parallel opposite. They seek larger than life men and women; for most, the maleness they spend their lives pursuing are embodied in their mentors and bosses, and the women are either detached fantasies or expensive rarities (me).

I want to travel more. This trip was invigorating and fun! So money pigs, listen: I know how badly you want me to embody your fictitious feminine by shopping for frills and shoes. Fine, send me those tributes too. But if you are interested in serving me, and not your own fantasy--remember how I hate "topping from the bottom"--learn to give me what I want. I'm not your motherfucking secretary, and I want to go to Van Couver over Thanksgiving. Write it down.