Archive for the ‘Debauched Diary’ Category

OK, I don’t want to be thought to be turning this into a splog. I really don’t. Yes, I also webmaster, which means my inbox is full of free sample porn all the time. A lot of it kind of crappy, some of it OK enough that I get a bug up my ass to promote it, and every once in a while, it’s fucking HOT.

Trannypack has figured out a lot of what’s missing from tranny porn. Um, like the hotness. The hotness of the boys sucking the girls off, the hotness of the girls in the first place, lighting, and shit, they even have a tranny latex site that looks better than a lot of the glamour latex gender girl sites.

This clip is hot, but maybe it’s partly due to the fact that Brazilian Portugese always sounds sexy. I think it really heats up at the boot worship part when dude actually seems to be hurting.  God, as a femdom seeing a man who’s more than like a 2 out of ten hurting is a goldmine enough.

Ok, so maybe I DO wish I had a dick.

Anyhow, check it out. Join if you love it.

Shemale Punishers

Tranny Latex (why has it taken so long for someone to do this?)

Danish loser inspired me with his obediently sent MODCLOTH GC. We’ll see if modcloth has their heads up their butts like zappos did or if this will work well. If it does I’ll be making EVERYONE get modcloth GC’s until I feel outfitted enough.

My size is changing for the much smaller again, and so I’ll be needing things not to slide off my ass.

More MODCLOTH want items, each item is linked to its info – yum!

I’m utterly in love with the betsey johnson dress and the red gloves- totally not warm enough but it’s too early in the year to give a shit.

Get me greendot, or MODCLOTH gift certificates, so I can shop till YOU drop.

Sadly, Modcloth doesn’t do it for me much on bags, but I love the Uffizi.

God, I love this. My 1920’s fetish thrills to this dress, the color is Yum.

So I was going to do a nice fluff post about my salon day some loser paid for la la la whatever, and then I read — this.

http://carnalnation.com/content/36439/10/archbishop-suicide-bombers-are-better-married-gays

It makes me feel much more secure about what I do and who I am, actually. Rather than having the “OMG, how can you do such frivolous things with money in a world like this” I see it this way. With your weak, fucked up, twisted little religio-tainted sexuality, I am taking money out of circulation from these Nazi-abetting twatbags.

Don’t give me “oh but Mother Teresa” these people do NOTHING but put PR bandaids on a couple of the world’s miserable to keep their gold meal ticket going till the end of time.

Liberation Theology is the ONLY thing worth my spit ever to come out of Christendom. And unless you were planning on giving those pennies to the poor, I’ll take them TYVM, and give them to MADRE.

Fuckers.

What She Wants

I don’t want a bad boy to treat me wrong and assert his individuality all over my carpet. I want a tractable, studious wimp. I want a shiny 250 pound robot and I want the remote. I want my own personal Jesus to nail up over my bed. I want a disciple to wash my feet. I want an unearthly girly man to be my lesbian twin. I want a sugardaddy to wipe my feet on, snuggle up to and manipulate like ABC gum. I want a supplicant. I want a guard dog. I want a pale and wan intellectual, begging me to make him do research and write paens to my beauty. I want to launch 10,000 ships…with my mind. I want to break 10,000 men…with my voice.

I want a corporation. I want a golden parachute. I want guilty, furtive, condemned and conflicted men of influence to come to me, whip carried in mouth.

I don’t want Marlon Brando in his heyday. I don’t want Clark Gable. I want an army. I want 65 clones of Vin Diesel down on bended knee in the hot sands of the thunderfucking drome all pointed in the same direction, all waiting for my command, all readied at my behest.

I want a six foot teddy bear with a massive erection, that I can just climb on and suck my thumb. I want to bury my face in his soft pink fur, and never ever worry a bit.

I want a real man who isn’t afraid to cry. I want a hopelessly horny, emasculated little pissant who isn’t afraid to beg. I want a man afraid of his masculinity. I want a man bound to his masculinity. I want a man who reviles his masculinity. I want a man who doesn’t know which of the three he is.

I want to hurt, humble, amuse myself, take no prisoners, leave no survivors, and I want it now. I want to want. I want to give myself a framed license that states “This document entitles Mira Stern to practise whatever the hell she pleases.”

I want to fuck you. No, I said that I wanted to fuck you. Get humble and get passive, bitch.

And what, what entitles me to such wonders? Why would I, just lil me, dare to dream and dare to demand? No credentials. No special reason. A decision to deserve. Starting now. A conscious choice, to reapply my lipstick, quit sobbing in my beer and be a grownup. Why most women never reach this conclusion is beyond my comprehension. Why most women never decide to deserve is the thing I will never understand.

Keep your bad boy, till he becomes an asshole and you have to kick him out.

Cry, buy beer, and repeat.

I’ll keep the good ones, the ones who bore you.

I will never get bored while having my way.

twiglette is an absolute A-1 jester. His antics are pretty much – priceless.

I’m just going to let this do the talking. All you need to know is that it was inspired by my order for him to jack off onto his toothbrush and use said toothbrush as usual – performed for me with aplomb on cam. I believe he did say “Oh my God, this is appalling.”

Yes. Yes it was.

And inspiring, evidently, as well.

ODE TO A TOOTHBRUSH

Dulcet bristles, white as silk

Please receive my loser milk

Should i spill or lose control

Discipline will take its toll

Born a loser, trained to serve

Stripped of ego, stripped of nerve

“This,” she said “is what you’ll do

“ruin out a plop of goo

“worry not, there is no rush

“but catch it all on your toothbrush.”

Utterly aghast was I

to brush with my homemade creampie

But not for me to question why

Just to make my dicklet cry

Never let the pleasure rise

Stop before you close your eyes

Have a care you don’t enjoy

Pleasures don’t attend the toy

Out it squirts with not a spasm

A classic ruination ‘gasm

Snared upon the springing bristle

Prior twas clean as a whistle

Now besmirched with beta juice

Once be-sacked and now sprung loose

Learn to like the salty taste

Defeat and shame both mixed with waste

Now into the mouth it goes

sliming up my toothful rows

Awful salty viscous stuff

Life, for cuckolds, can be rough

File under:  Tributes. Literary. Disgusting.

http://aslipofagirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/underwear-in-your-hair.html

I love aslipofagirl. Don’t get me wrong.

And I love Angela St. Lawrence, who scooped this for me on twitter.
But what the ever loving fuckety fuck.

Cosmo.

Fuckers.

Yes, this makes perfect sense to me. It’s soooooo sexy. Men will love it.

These are the reasons, I motherfucking hate you, pervert, and relish making you cry andbeg for mercy.

No, YOU do it.

Send me a photo of you, with a thong on your head, and I will send you five free minutes. These will be very brutal minutes.

spoilarealgoddess@gmail.com

This is one of those things that materialized offhandedly. I’m not even sure exactly of the moment it went though my head, but it was one of those phone calls in the evening with Beltway Bitch, my most loyal and most trusted of piggies.

We were stuck on progressive politics and the stupid state of the world, as usually happens, and I think I was in the middle of saying “this Joe Wilson thing is just the most distracting pile of horseshit.”

Well, distracting pile of horseshit it may be. However, maybe it was the crisp fall air, maybe it was the gentle seasonal change in DC, but I had this vision.

The vision was of the lawn in front of the Capital. And on that lawn, there would be an asshole. A little asshole putting himself on display. It wouldn’t frighten the public, because – well let’s face it, ANYTHING can be agitprop if you put it on the capital lawn, just another weirdo making a point.

Why not? Why not another weirdo making a point, degrading himself AND making an ass of himself because The Debaser gets whatever she wants? And what she wants is a monkey so sublimely trained that it will publicly shame and whore itself in the most public, civic, open environments.

The angry left is a moneydomme. And she is coming for you.

I bet this made a few closet queer GOP sons of bitches hard, in the process. Sure, why not. Thank me on the phones, you degenerates, I know you wanted a piece of THIS. Mmmm mmm. (hairball)

The shirt is special – I made Beltway go and make it up at a mall kiosk with a live person working there. Apparently this person was a nice black girl whose brow was justifiably knit until it was explained that actually Beltway thinks Joe Wilson is a douche and that he was the one who was going to be wearing the shirt as an anti-Wilson gesture. Whereupon she started laughing and laughing and said “just make sure no one beats your ass up.” How awesome is that, bringing comedy and smiles to a woman I will never meet, using one stupid boomer bitch as my conduit?

Now, as pathetic and as lame as Beltway may be, he is a veritable LORD AND MASTER compared to the little pantywaist pussybitches who will never be more than a paycheck and a trembling little voice on the phone. THIS is what it would be like to serve me. THIS is the kind of thing you are expected to do – in a rote and unquestioning fashion. Debase yourself for me even on the lawn of the Nation’s Capital if I demand it.

It’s very easy to find a little asshole who will dance for me in panties on cam in his locked home office. Wow, that’s just SO pervy of you. Not. I simply get more, deserve more, and require more than whoever you are used to serving. I require your total humiliation in the civic sphere.

Let’s get an even better look at that shirt, it’s a winner!

Doesn’t that just make you want to give me a high five?

In the things I want universe -  These decadent retro ensembles are SO ME – and you of course are going to make my dreams come true.

MANHATTAN SUIT BY STOP STARING
I WANT THIS. Priority. Majorly. The ultimate hostile corporate takeover suit, but fucking retro WANT. NOW.
BUY THE GIFT CERTIFICATE, SEND TO heartlessfemme@gmail.com

Second Priority is this stunner in red
LOVE SPELL W LACE by STOP STARING
BUY THE GIFT CERTIFICATE, SEND TO heartlessfemme@gmail.com

This red and black beauty with high waist STOP STARING VAMP DRESS
BUY THE GIFT CERTIFICATE, SEND TO heartlessfemme@gmail.com

this leopard trim number in red almost seems wearable on a cold day even STOP STARING BLONDIE DRESS
BUY THE GIFT CERTIFICATE, SEND TO heartlessfemme@gmail.com

I want this for my warm weather trip  STOP STARING NAOMI DRESS
BUY THE GIFT CERTIFICATE, SEND TO heartlessfemme@gmail.com

PARIS DRESS FROM STOP STARING
Definite want
BUY THE GIFT CERTIFICATE, SEND TO heartlessfemme@gmail.com
30’s BOMBSHELL FROM STOP STARING

See, this is the deal. I love gay men. I respect and embrace my queer bretheren. I despise the little closet cocksucking fear fairies who can’t make up their mind, get over themselves and just say “I love to suck cock” and get ON with life. Those twisted little fairy monkeys still labor under the delusion that mock heterosexual men are BETTER than openly gay ones, and that makes me kind of want to puke. All over them.

Douglas is an interesting little headcase. When he first reached out to touch me (ugh) I think a couple of YEARS ago, he was well on his way crossing over the line – not merely sucking some cock, but actively pursuing other men. Even sharing little tales with me of how some bitchy queen at a bar accused him of wearing a Tommy Bahama shirt, to which he was like, ew, no. Douglas was well entrenched into not merely being a cocksucking freak, but almost NORMALIZED into fag culture completely.

As far as I’m concerned this is a good goal. NORMALIZED and gay is the best case outcome for little sissified queer non males with no cock and no heterosexual capabilities, so really, Douglas was JUST shy of a good outcome. A major makeover.

The problem with this, is that he continues to call me. And continues. In fact, every time Doug the faggot goes and does anything gay, which in his world SHOULD just be normal rational and integrated, he is compelled to get on the phone to the tune of whatever I feel like charging him and enter the cocksucker confessional, and tell me how hot it makes him that I *forced* him into blah whatever – Jesus. What a little fuck up.

So I’ve decided that Doug has really missed the boat. He’ll never be a calmly integrated healthy little gayboy while I have anything to do with it. He doesn’t deserve that. If I ever change my mind it’ll be when he EARNS it.

In the spirit of tormenting the little closet gnome with his lost heterosexuality, I had him perform my scathing UNDERCOVER SISSY assignment. The results were, I thought, the best in the bucket of jackoff replies this little audio yielded.

Not only did doug do it ONCE, he found himself compelled to do it THREE times!
I have to say, I appreciate that. I appreciate a man who understands the importance of the scientific method, and that results you only get one time could be some kind of a fluke. No. Doug go had to do the assignment THREE times and get soundly, absurdly, and crushingly rejected by THREE different women!

The bottom line is that Doug, from Hoboken, little closet homo freakshow, versus righteous gay dude – Would RATHER be REJECTED soundly by women than be ACCEPTED and have some hot sweaty awesome mansex.

Now, do you want to give doug a run for his title as the most fucked up little wannabe homo but can’t wahhhh headcase?

Try the UNDERCOVER SISSY challenge!

25 bucks for the NAIL in the COFFIN of your heterosexuality.