very dry gin, three olives, no drama

“Of all sexual aberrations, perhaps the most peculiar is chastity.
Remy de Gourmont

Slide those questions at me like a slippery appendage down an open throat. Ask Mz. Conduct at: guttergrl69.hotmail.com and send me your money, damnit, at www.paypal.com -- same email address.

After a nightmarish date with an over-zealous fan, which turned into an octopus-wrestling match in the parking lot of the Tiki Lounge, I decided to lay low for a bit. Okay, two days to be exact. The big bash -- for the smut magazine I write for -- was happening at a club downtown and I was obligated to attend. It was a huge, private party, just hoppin’ with pretty strippers, pistol packin’ mobsters, a couple of Dominas with slaves in tow, and a limousine spilling out scantily clad beauties. Then, of course, there was moi, in a roaring bitchy-bitch mood, and my convoluted entourage: Greedgirl, looking ravishing in a floor length, black dress, slit up to the Yukon; Blue Sky Boy in smiles and motorcycle helmet; Big Bald Bouncer, in black leathers (acting as my personal bodyguard for the evening), and all of us driven to the club by The Distinguished Deviant, who wore leather pants and a naughty-assed spiked belt. I was wearing my new leather knee-high boots, black fishnets, and a wee little black dress to match.

Big Bald Bouncer had my back all evening, in case the octopus date showed his face. He even set up my protection with the guys at the door, who by the way, resembled matching Fridge-a-daires. I meandered through the crowd, the relentless thump of the Norman Sylvester Blues band pounding in my temples, and was handed martinis left and right. All Sapphire, three olives, every time. Nice. Even my son and his handsome, Spanish roommate showed up. My son was impressed with the shindig and had a whopping good time ogling the drunken strippers. I had to keep Greedgirl from molesting him though, as she had one too many double whiskeys and not enough food in her svelte gullet. Have Weenie-Will-Travel was there and took me aside to give me a V.I.P pass (whatever on earth that is good for) and to confess that I was A) the “best romp he’d ever had” and B) that he still thinks about me, “especially late at night.” Tramps in Toledo, I took the martini he offered me and declared, “Well, of course, that‘s a given, sweetie,” and strode my sleek, rump into the thick of the exuberant crowd. I suppose I could have mentioned that he looked nice in his tuxedo, but I wasn’t in a benevolent mood. However, I did catch sight of a gorgeous young lad who reminded me a bit of the Yum Yum Boy. And since the latter is still in a land far, far away, I just had to introduce myself to the gothic vision coming my way. He reeked of cool. He was tall, with long, shiny, black hair and vinyl pants that made his round little ass scream, ‘Come and bite me, baby!’ His name was Casey and I think I left some drool on his crotch. Bad-girl antics are a science, you know.

I had a lovely date with Mister Television Producer the other evening. He took me to dinner, a movie, and even bought food for my house full of critters. He didn’t grope, he didn’t whine, and he didn’t whip out his weenie... which means he may see me again.

Fret Boy and his rockin’ band, Untyd, were on a local radio station the other morning. I meant to record it, but pushed a wrong button and ended up only recording Fret Boy saying something about sleeping with his dog. Oops!

The Lion King bought me a fab book of the Sex and the City escapades, took me to a happy hour that included dinner and doubles, and then to see a film called “Secretary” that I absolutely panted over. Ooooh, do I recommend that one! It’s a psychological S/M love story and so very well done. It made me walk out of the theatre hankering for the sweet, stinging swats of seduction.

I had a raging workout at the YMCA and after a good steam and hot tub, I paraded my shaved, pierced, and tattooed self into the locker room, despite the evil-eyes of the Yuppie-Christian-lipstick-bare women. They are always there, looking away when they see me, muttering little prayers for me, into their gym bags of ignorant bliss. This time, there was an older Down Syndrome woman sitting right in front of my locker and I asked her if I could squeeze in behind her. She was so cute, I thought I would die. She, nicely, got her things together and moved aside for me and as she was turning around she looked up at me and hollered, extremely loud (as Down Syndrome people often do), “Oh, sooo pretty!” and the conglomerate of Christian housewives had simultaneous cardiac arrests. It was the funniest thing ever and made my freakin’ day. God bless the uninhibited, for we surrender to hedonism, beauty and the first amendment whenever we damn well please.

I’ve made fast friends with a fabulous-fannied girl who wants to hook up with me. She’s a dancer at some of the nicest topless clubs in the city and seeing, that she’s recently left her husband, she may need some girl-on-girl comforting. Perhaps she should get her curvy self over here, feed me purple grapes, good champagne and lap-dance me into oblivion. Now, where’s my damn phone when I need it?


Dear Mz Conduct,

I’m hoping you can help me with my problem. I like to be submissive to women and do what they tell me but I have found it really hard to actually link up with one. The problem is that I have a beautiful and sexy friend whom I would love to serve sometimes, but she doesn't seem really interested in it when I approach the subject. Now and then she'll kind of order me to buy her cigarettes and wine (which thrills me) but I dream of doing something more, like taking her on a shopping spree to buy clothing and get minor satisfaction from being openly used by her. I kind of like the idea of her treating me like shit for a few hours. My question is, am I asking too much or should I be asking at all?

Worm

Dear Worm,

Well, you’ve ‘approached the subject‘, now ask her flat out and quit beating around her bush. If she says she’s not interested in fulfilling your desires then leave it alone -- if you want to remain friends. She’ll let you know if she changes her mind. In the meantime check out www.alt.com or look in you local newspaper. Check out the personal ads section, and find a Dominatrix that’ll rock your inflatable boat. Now, shut the fuck up and go wash my mold-covered dishes, feed the dogs and polish my thigh high boots until they blind you with glare.

Dear Mz. Conduct,

After three weeks of marriage, my wife refuses to suck my whole penis. She just sucks the tip and I want her to do more than that. She says she doesn’t like it and I don’t know what to do. If you tell me I should give her oral sex, well, I do! I kiss her muffin over cellophane (because she said she gets urinary tract infections) and try to please her continuously. Can you help me, please?

Newlywed Going Nuts


Dear NGN,

This is why premarital sex can be such a remarkable thing. It baffles me that men, or women for that matter, marry someone who doesn’t satisfy them sexually. Some people say that you marry the person and not what they can do for you and blah blah freakin’ blah. Titties on a tuna-melt, that’s just horseshit! Let’s face it, we’ve all been swooned into mistaken relationships, but hopefully we learn from them and don’t repeat history. Even I once shacked up with a guy who wouldn’t lick me, said he had a ‘bad experience’ with some girl in college or some utter garbage. I kept asking him, “Honey, have you seen my pussy?” I mean, really! In any case, I told him flat out that if he couldn’t fix his sexual hang-ups then I was taking up other offers, just so he knew. He never amended his behavior, so I found someone else down the line. Granted, this was only part of the relationship problem, but it certainly contributed to the break-up. Since most people aren’t as brutally honest as I am, they end up cheating because of such things. I do believe in the truth most all the time. So if I were you, I’d tell her how much it means to you -- which she’d see if she deep throated you -- and keep in mind that when one person gets turned on, the other feeds off of that unbridled enthusiasm. On the other hand, some women just don’t like administering fellatio. Personally, that is an attitude that I can’t even fathom, but still, it does remain a fact. If I were you, I’d look into some Tantric sex workshops that the two of you could take together.

By the way, get yourself tested for urinary tract infection and if you’re clean, then loose the cellophane, honey. Sometimes people are asymptomatic and still contagious without even being aware of it. The point is, especially in this new marriage, you should both want to please the other, sexually and otherwise, and work through anything that is blocking that, no matter what. If all else fails, go visit a glory hole, live long and prosper.

© All rights reserved Kim Alvarez