Saturday, 29 August 2009

Not that kind of girl...

I feel I must make a confession to alleviate my guilt. I am clearly not myself.
I have known one, two, three, four and more individuals who like to get stuff bought for them. And who doesn't. But really I am talking about a "I will have sex with you, occasionally wear a short skirt and you buy me stuff/support me" set-up. I should say that it pains me that this scenario usually only relates to women. But that is because of the conditioning we all receive from birth. Another post altogether.
On the fetish scene, there is also such a thing as financial slavery, which is different, but I still feel pretty darn uneasy with it.
And yet, here I am, now about to embark on my quest to become an artist, thinking:
"Gosh, it sure would be nice to have a rich man take care of, I mean sponsor me whilst I become an amazing artiste."
For shame.
But it's not like I wouldn't be working, I just wouldn't be bringing home any money.
For shame.
I feel the need for self-flagellation. And you can all shut-up, because it's not erotic if you're doing it to yourself.
How did it come to this, Maisie, you who try to avoid letting boys buy you stuff?


  1. A rich sponsor would be nice but it will feel better if you do it by yourself. Plus I'm not sure I can afford you anyway!

  2. You're in luck, because the truth is I am really cheap. To run. And besides, I am not motivated by money... Make a romantic gesture, and I am yours... Go on.

  3. Ah my dear but you are clearly in love with someone else, and I don't play nicely with others, or share!

  4. What's a romantic gesture among friends, or guys you don't really know on the internet?
    p.s. Ah-ha! You are a London boy. I knew it.

  5. Not my words but they will suffice. Just don't put your head in an oven!:

    "He loved her and she loved him.
    His kisses sucked out her whole past and future or tried to
    He had no other appetite
    She bit him she gnawed him she sucked
    She wanted him complete inside her
    Safe and sure forever and ever
    Their little cries fluttered into the curtains

    Her eyes wanted nothing to get away
    Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows
    He gripped her hard so that life
    Should not drag her from that moment
    He wanted all future to cease
    He wanted to topple with his arms round her
    Off that moment's brink and into nothing
    Or everlasting or whatever there was

    Her embrace was an immense press
    To print him into her bones
    His smiles were the garrets of a fairy palace
    Where the real world would never come
    Her smiles were spider bites
    So he would lie still till she felt hungry
    His words were occupying armies
    Her laughs were an assassin's attempts
    His looks were bullets daggers of revenge
    His glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets
    His whispers were whips and jackboots
    Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing
    His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway
    Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks
    And their deep cries crawled over the floors
    Like an animal dragging a great trap
    His promises were the surgeon's gag
    Her promises took the top off his skull
    She would get a brooch made of it
    His vows pulled out all her sinews
    He showed her how to make a love-knot
    Her vows put his eyes in formalin
    At the back of her secret drawer
    Their screams stuck in the wall

    Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves
    Of a lopped melon, but love is hard to stop

    In their entwined sleep they exchanged arms and legs
    In their dreams their brains took each other hostage

    In the morning they wore each other's face"

  6. Any beautifully woven words, even ones that seem to reverberate and beckon from inside the oven, are Maisie wooing-fodder. Beware.

  7. The words "God send me a sugar daddy" have slipped from these lips a time too many. Then I found one before me. We dated and I quickly realized his generosity was more attractive than any other quality, which has his merits but wasn't enough for a relationship. In the end, I couldn't do it. I opted for self-supporting (read desperately poor) over having to maintain a false pretense just so I could live in the luxury of his world.
    I always wonder if I'd have opted otherwise if he'd actually been good in bed.
    mysterg is such a scamp, but don't you just love him?

  8. @Sassy: That's the thing. I only want "true love". I really can't stomach the idea of sugar-daddies. Yick.
    As for mysterg, he most certainly is. He knows exactly what he is doing.


You kiss your mother with that mouth?