I know it’s been awhile since I’ve blogged. I’d like to say it’s for a good reason and that I was off bringing peace to the Middle East and curing cancer while rescuing golden retrievers in Arkansas, but really it’s only because I’ve been lazy, rotting, and doing other meaningless things. Because I’m still collecting myself after the madcap escapades involving all manner of scandal, bitch fits, Gay Pride, men I love, and men I want to set ablaze and scatter their ashes like confetti to the crack whores of the world, I thought I’d share some stories from two of my closest and dearest soulmates. These stories aren’t for the weak of heart. But then again, if you’re reading this, neither are you.
A Grindr Tale, by Cakes:
This past Thursday during a particularly boring day at work I decided to throw caution to the wind and hop on everybody’s favorite whore app Grindr. After a few minutes I received a message from a boy who although may not have been a complete 10 was good enough for a go or two. With the intention being very clear of what the evening was to entail, I set off home to freshen up and head over to his room. The boy wasn’t as cute as his pics, but they rarely are and his room looked like something out of Orange Is the New Black. While trying to make conversation to break the ice, I came across three very interesting pieces of information. One was that he was having a guest stay with him the following day (more on that later), the second is that he is an escort. Digging even further, I also discovered he did porn. Now, I’m not one to judge (just kidding, I totally am) but after hearing that someone I intended to rail into next Tuesday is both an escort and a porn star, I started to proceed with a bit of caution. “Can I see some of your work?” I asked. “Yeah ok,” he said. And as he put one of his masterpieces on his laptop, I witnessed him getting banged out, bareback, by not one, not two but at least seven different guys all excreting their baby batter inside him. After watching for a good ten minutes, legs crossed with a look of pure terror on my face, I quickly got up and said “I think I’m gonna take off” and jetted towards the door faster than a speeding bullet!
The following day a friend of mine from upstate NY visited me at the store saying he was here to stay with a friend of his. I later saw him and the boy from Grindr walking side by side down the boardwalk. He was the guest Grindr mentioned the previous evening. It truly is a small world…
But let’s not pity our dearest whore friend. Who amongst us hasn’t once considered selling our body for cash? And according to him, one client paid $12,000 which is a price I would easily give up my booty for.
A Kinky Nightmare, by Dark Horse:
A few years ago I dated a man who exhausted me with his sexual exploits. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy a side of kink, but when you’re holed up in my basement for days building yourself a penis cage out of wood while trolling for men on Craigslist, something is amiss. Regardless, I entertained this clown and his insistent requests for humiliation until I wanted to set him on fire and let one of those Craigslist boys haul away his burnt up ashes. This is the tale of the time I handcuffed his pansy ass.
My shithead of a father is also a police officer. Over 20 years ago, I did what any good cop’s daughter does and decided to steal his police-issue handcuffs “just in case” I ever needed a pair. You know, for safety reasons. Well, this guy (we’ll call him Dildo Baggins due to the fact that he owned more dildos than every sorority house in the Midwest combined) had begged me to cuff him for a few months, and since he lived in LA and I’m in Baltimore, it was hard to find the time. However, on his last (and final) trip to visit me I decided to give him what he wanted. Mainly so he’d shut the fuck up about it.
We went out for a few drinks and then back to my place where this shit storm story truly begins. He gets fully nude and I cuff his hands above his head… securing them to the headboard of my wrought iron bed. Lesbihonest, I got bored pretty quickly. I mean, here I am having to do all of the work while he just lies there talking about how he wants to be defiled by a black guy (to each their own, but if I’m the one there at the time, at least make a girl feel special). After about an hour, I was totally over it. And kind of hungry for a snack. I told him I was going to uncuff him and went to get the keys, which were normally in my bedside table drawer. However, upon first inspection the keys were nowhere to be found. I had just recently moved and began to think that maybe I’d put them in another location for “safe keeping”. Well, dude flips out. He begins whining and literally crying about how he trusted me to know where the key was, etc. etc. etcOMGSTFU. Here’s a thing about me: Start in with some bullshit like that and I will shut down and not be able to find the damn key even if it was dangling from my left nip. I looked around a bit and still could not find the key. By this point he is enraged. A 45 year old naked, sobbing, angry guy is cuffed to my bed.
I had to simultaneously wear my Martha Stewart and MacGyver hats and think of a plan. I had a saw… that should work, right? I straddled this moron for a solid 30 minutes while sawing through my precious, beautiful, still-not-fully-paid-for headboard so he could at least get the feeling back in his arms. Sparks were flying (quite literally), he was bitching, and my new bed was now ruined. He was still fully cuffed, but free from the bed and he then proceeded to demand that I saw the cuffs off of him. Safe, right? I tried and the saw broke. In retrospect, he’s lucky I didn’t just saw his stupid hands off. It’s now after midnight and I have to work the next day. I’m tired from the sawing. He’s driving me crazy. I tell him to shut up and go to sleep and I’d deal with it in the morning. He said, “You mean I have to sleep with these cuffs on?” I replied, “Yep, unless you’re Houdini and can figure out a magical escape method all by yourself because I’m done for the night.”
I slept. I don’t know if he did… but I did. I woke up at 6 am and helped him put pants on… a shirt was not happening because it’s hard to get your arms through those arm holes when they’re cuffed together, ya know. I drove to the nearest Home Depot and told him to wait in the car. I went in, found a poor, unsuspecting Home Depot worker and promptly informed him that I had a man in handcuffs in my car out in the parking lot (“It’s a sex thing,” I added) and needed a saw that could break through them. I said, “It needs to be some heavy duty shit because I have to be at work in an hour and a half.” His face turned red as he was trying to figure out whether or not I was serious. Once he realized that this was no joke he attentively helped me pick out the best saw for my “home improvement needs”.
I drove home with my new saw and the giant shirtless tool in my front seat. I sawed him free in less than 3 minutes, rolled my eyes at him and went to work. I’m sure it won’t surprise any of you to learn that we broke up about a week later. While going through my room to collect his belongings to mail back to him in the hell-hole known as LA, I found the handcuff keys in my bedside table where they’d been all along.
The Adventures of J-La 