Cane for Cuffs strike again

•October 28, 2010 • Leave a Comment

She was sprinting like a whirlwind, her ruddy ponytail whipping the damp air of Altiplano wildly.  Random bursts of vibrating energy from the egg embedded in her pussy spurred her on.  Red strings tightly laced through the six rings in her labia held it in.

Her white blouse was out and her plain skirt was flying, flashing the morning crowd with her naked bum, white thighs, and, the tied-up, juice-smeared pussy.  At the moment, she did not care.  All she wanted to do was win the race. Alpha was on her way to her Master

She weaved through the jostling crowd.  She jumped from driveway to sidewalk and back again, muttering absentminded ‘sorrys’ in three languages when she bumped into someone.

Pushing her way around the rickshaws and palanquins, she jumped over four wheeled slutmobiles, dived between snake charmer’s naked slaves and the lady wearing the neon brimmed hat and flew on.  She was on her way to her Master.

All the slut-traffic lights were green for her as always.  She was on her way to her Master.

Alpha skidded by the whirring slutmobile.  It tilted on one wheel and spun, causing the angry rider to swing at her with his riding crop.  His slut pedaled desperately.

She jumped to the side and ran into a herd of furniture.  The girls scattered, entangling themselves in leashes and rope corrals.  More angry shouting and whip cracking followed, this time from the dark skinned furniture herdsman.

Merrily, Alpha swerved into a narrow alley, jumping over smoking puddles and avoiding waking meth junkies.  She almost fell over the angry bum as the egg announced its arousing presence again.  Nevertheless, she flew on, knowing her sister-bitch competitor would never use such a shortcut.  She was on her way to her Master.

Her goal – the phallic building of ‘Dom’s Way’ Enterprises – rose forbiddingly from the empty Dom plaza.  It loomed huge and unfocused by the smog over the downtown bustle.

A flotilla of flashing, life-like Flying Slut blimps spread from the glistening spire just as the fleet of running subs converged towards it.

Windmills of the City of Agharti kept turning.

She is actually on her way to  completely re-edited, re-written version of Wolffie’s collection of stories: Cane for Cuffs. t it is all hard hitting, explicit, lingering and concentrated, hot and personal stories for the One. Stories range from serious psychological scenes to phantasmagorias and fantasy spoofs.

And it is very irreverent. Not even Dominants are spared from jabs. But is mostly about submissives… they get all the fun.

This collection of stories can be ordered from Lulu both as an e-book and paperback. And now you can bet a Halloween discount: just enter the  code TRICK305 and you get 25% off the cover price!

original cover

Enjoy.

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The Door Space: Full Moon

•September 25, 2010 • Leave a Comment

September  equinox was on the 23 rd the center of the Sun being in the same plane as the Earth’s  equator. (It’s autumnal equinox for us with Northern sphere bias.)

And it coincided, more or less with the full moon.

The days are shorter, the darkness advances. We’ve sailed into the Dark of the Year. And yet that dark is a promise of light to come. In that dark the other light shines ever more brightly. It might even be that we are blinded by this inner light of things and so, we do not see that there is no dark side really…

That is the time when The Door open and the Ancient Powers (who were here before, and will be here after us) come over and dance their dance, as They always do, inviting us over…

And, therefore here is a sound/video installation celebrating the Opening of the Door:

(it is  HQ. If it does not run smoothly on Youtube lower the bit rate there)

Main samples come from:

White Rabbit Culture:  Before the End

And Zoran Lakic: A.U.Ex

Some heath vibes

And more….

Fractal  Art by Jock Cooper

Excerpts from Dune by David Lynch

And more…

Wolff added to it all, mixed, twisted, talked

The results is neither of the artwork used, but something more, hopefully, new and different, as it should be. A personal view.

(it is related to Igra Staklenih Perli/The Glass Beads Game, but it is not)

Play loud and enjoy.

Ooga Ooga Tales

•August 11, 2010 • Leave a Comment

In the in the time before dreaming, before the Dreamtime,  when most of the planet was covered with woods and unfucked my Man and before the magnificent world forest turned into oil which we can spill so deftly …  apes used to sing,

“Ooga ooga ooga.” Echoed through the cathedral aisles of the primeval forest. , heavy morning mists lay over the treetops. The ape voices carried to reaches of their world. They would sing in in unison, confirming that world was in tune, that it was ALL right and in peace.

Apes would climb down on a rare clearing and wobble in a stately procession around rock outcropping adorned with bananas and nuts singing:

“Ooga ooga ooga.” making sure that everything remained all right in the world.

And so it went for untold eons.

Until one day a little brat,  Oogy Moogy, went to his grandfather and asked:

“Granpa, why the hell we always have to sing Oooga Oooga?”

“And what would you have us sing, little one?  Ooga ooga works pretty good, you know,” said the grand patriarch Donko Woogo, deftly polishing a serving of ants from the stick he was so good at using.

“How about Wooga wooga?” said the clever brat.

“That sound pretty good to me.” said Donko Woogo. “All right, we’ll sing wooga wooga from now on. I have spoken.”

And so Woogo’s clan sang:

“Wooga wooga wooga.”

But his  great uncle Ooogo Dooit declared it a heresy and his clan went on singing Oooga Oooga.

Unfortunately he had a brother, Loogo Loly and he had an idea now.  His clan stated singing:

“Looga looga looga.”

And so it went.

Soon across the beautiful green-blue globe the clans were singing an orthodox Oooga Ooga. The protesting ones were singing: Wooga and Looga, Weega and Zooga, Hooga and B’ooga… the anarchist ones sang: Ni Ni Ni and Eeki Eeki Eeki and the groovy ones even sang: “Sock it to me, baby.”

It could not last and after millions of years of living in rut apes invented two new things: politics and war.

Finally  Oogy Moogy, now an old patriarch himself fought his way through the opposing factions to the largest clearing and cried:

But it was too late. They were all speaking in tongues now and on their way to shed the fur.

Tales from the Whipping Post

•August 11, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Nikita’s stories  collection Tales from the Whipping Post is just the right way to take a look, see and feel the Dark Side. Nikita’s stories are just down to earth and just up in the clouds as they should be. Written with clarity, humor, perceptiveness these stories bite in a sleek and personal way. It is easy and thought provoking reading. And, it s all hot.

In the bondage awards winning author’s words:

I could be your next door neighbor, hairdresser, accountant, soccer mom, or your new best friend. But you will never know because I dream, live, and write what you will read here. Fact and fiction blur, words, like shards of hot colors, will steam and frizz your hair. Grab your coffee and sit a spell.

I was the Catholic schoolgirl who got caught smoking in the locker room after   school.

I went to confession for shits and grins.

I stood up for the kid who was made fun of by others for being different.

I’ve had fantasies of S & M ever since I could remember my panties getting wet.


Between a Switch Rock and a Hard Place

•August 2, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Is there a middle ground between a rock and a hard place?

The Paradoxical Complexities and Imbalance of Power in Switching. An essay thingy on switching which was hanging in the back of my head. It didn’t really go the way I wanted – damn nuances are so fleeting.

Note: ‘Dominant’ is gender neutral and ‘you’ is a conversational you,


So… it is HARD to be submissive, isn’t it? Even if it seems the most natural thing and there is a such a need and everything clicks into place when you submit, it is STILL very hard.

There is always more to fulfill and more to submit to and the ba… Dominant is always asking for more. And that is great but it is still hard.

And the direction He/She is taking might not be exactly what you want but you want to submit, to please. It’s hard.

And you SO still yearn to fulfill everything and always need more, and more, and more.

You want to possess Him/Her in some ungodly manner which seems in contradiction with the need (and demand) to let go, to forgo all control in favor of the One you want to possess.

Damn it’s hard.

And IF you are lucky, get to cum – a lot and hard.

But wait, it’s hard to be a Dominant too. That is even harder. You have to acquire skills, practice and hone them. Always pick up new things. You can’t use any of the wonderful wicked toys without mastering them. And you have to read the submissive, to KNOW them better than any shrink.

And you have to praise, teach, and punish. And deal with all the antics, brattiness, the bluntly obvious or subtle attempts of the bitch to get it her/his own way. Not to mention the pressing.

Now, that is hard.

Holding onto the reins is a good exercise for the mind and the arm but sometimes you just want to let go and you can’t. You care. You take care of your own no matter how you feel a the moment.

It’s hard.

And you get to cum – a lot, and as much as you want. Hard.

But wait a another minute. What about switches? Oh my, oh MY. It must be doubled, especially if you switch from Dominant to submissive.

So, it’s twice as much hard, Is it?  Perhaps surprisingly, it’s not.

There is a wide BDSM area which there is a commonality, like sensation play. So it’s the same stuff in that’s in your mind and experience, a common mind turf. Some of those domly things and submissive things cancel out. The understanding and experienced Dominant viewpoint and submissive motives makes you appreciate it much more easily. So you can fit in better in the unique niche and express yourself in each guise with more ease and freedom – even if it is freedom you want lose for a while, even if it is freedom you want to gain.

It’s hard, but not absurd.

You might not be a fitting Dominant for ‘your’ submissive side, but at least you appreciate how hard it is, which makes it easier.

You play a kind of two faced, almost schizophrenic game. Hard, but you can appreciate it better.

So, if switches appreciate it all – could switches dominate themselves? Could switches impersonate that ideal Dominant submissives dream about and project onto real life Dominants? Could switches be ideal submissives for themselves? No way. Not in million years. Not even if they have a real split personality. Surprise and the unknown are the salt of life and it has to be someone outside yourself. Someone who knows you better then you know yourself but still someone who is not yourself. Damn it IS hard to be a Dominant.

But it’s hard.

Oh, and here’s another question. Are switches some kind of split personalities? No, at least not because they are switches. Switches are people just like me and you. The head, mind and the soul are big enough to accommodate it. Switches are just people. And we’re coming to turn the world upside down lol.

Hmmm… Its damn hard.

If you are waiting to burst out: ‘Wait a minute, being a Dominant or submissive is not all hardship” You are right. It is absolutely great, and lovely, and loving. It’s the BEST.

But it is still hard. LMAO

An afterthought: it IS harder to be switch. Just trying to talk about both points of view at the same time is head splitting. And you have to type much more. The Paradoxical Complexities of Switching.


No wonder some people do not believe it is possible or real. He he. At any given point in time there are no switches anyway.

Yes it’s Hard.

On Beans and Enlightenment

•July 25, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Have you heard a story about steadfast farting Buddha?

I am sure it is not true.

Once upon time in India, some twenty centuries ago there lived a devout Buddhist monk who spent 15 years meditating on how to help all sentient being reach Nirvana and living only on one prune and an olive a day.

Finally, he reached enlightenment on how to help all sentient being reach Nirvana.  He sat under the tree and forced himself to eat beans and rotten cabbage.  (Brussels sprouts were not invented yet).  He kept eating and after fifteen days, he made an emission.

Lo and behold all sentient beings, humans and even animals in a circle of 15 yojans (many miles) were translated to Nirvana.  Some took just one whiff and went to Nirvana.  Others survived the first intake but then made supreme effort to reach enlightenment and escape to Nirvana before they had to take another breath.

Very satisfied, the Steadfast farting Bodhisattva wowed not to stop until all sentient beings went to Nirvana.

Therefore, he moved 30 miles to the East, sat under the tree and started eating beans with the same result.

And again.

And again.

But the he reached the territory of mighty Rajah who took a dim view of someone translating his tax paying subjects en masse to Nirvana.  So he sent a thousand solders to resolve the matter.  The sage translated them all.  The Rajah then sent 10 000 soldiers.  Sage translated all of them, soldiers, horses, elephants, cooks, courtesans, slaves, priests, singers and poets, fortunetellers, craftsmen, incense sellers, peddlers, sandal makers… all.

Then the Rajah sent a group of ascetic sages to argue with  S F Bodhisattva.  But he converted them all.

Finally, the Rajah went to the sage himself to pay homage to Him and acknowledge Him as a Master.  He bowed and touched the lotos feet of the S F Bodhisattva surrounded by other beans eating sages.

Then he begged him to stop his beans eating and discharging mission or at least go somewhere else.

“I will never veer from my path, o might Rajah.” said the sage.  “HOWEVER, I am willing to take the break if you agree to take my place as a beans eating champion.”

Mighty Rajah agreed wholeheartedly.  After all, he could always eat more beans then any ascetic.

“Go   back to your palace o mighty Rajah.  I will retire to the cave and meditate but I want you to send me a messenger every day with a report on your progress.”

The Rajah agreed.

Tomorrow a messenger arrived to the cave and said to fig eating Sage:

“Might Rajah, no fart.”

Day after day, a messenger came with the same message: “Mighty Rajah, no fart.”

Until many days later, the messenger said:

“Mighty fart, no Rajah.”

Some say that S F Bodhisattva said: “Wisdom comes within and expands without; knowledge comes without and diffused within.”

Other say that he uttered: “Shit happens!” and reached for the beans laden spoon.

cross genres rant

•July 12, 2010 • 3 Comments

At the Goth night, among the dark folk, I noticed a guy in his mid twenties all in black, real black, black hair, some eye makeup too – but in rockabilly style! In the Early sixties, all the way, from a high hairdo with a ‘strand’ over his face to the narrow long ankle pants, a little silver embroidery on the sleeves of his jacket, and those white/black shoes from late fifties! Really! And he still managed convey the dark, Goth feeling.
That got me thinking about cross merging of styles and cross merging of genres in writing for example, emerging styles in fashion is a high art and very profitable, if one’s got the feel for it. But merging genres . . .
First off let me say that I think it is great and just plain fun.
Are we, as audience and authors, both, so much in rut that we need a genre-signpost telling us what lies ahead on the next leg of the trip (chapter or novel)? Do we like surprises only in the manner the road is traveled, the clever ways in which the road is twisted and disguised but we still want the familiar, safe road to be right there with the predictable ending and the tags letting us know what lies ahead and promising no surprises? Or does the kick lies in messing with the form? The pure delight is in the play.
So, is merging of genres an empty exercise? If the genre is all form with no substance, then it is.
Then again, if the form IS the substance, which almost defines post modern art, then merging of the genres and the branching of genres is almost the only way to develop it. The genre-writing (and art in general) is a predominant form of artistic expression now. So why not!?
Genre-ization!
What ‘works’ better – cross merging of related genres like bdsm-erotica with dark fantasy and horror or the unexpected like Goth and rockabilly? Is it too weird? Or nothing is unexpected any more but only some forms of surprises seem acceptable. The ‘expected unexpected’.
Are the real surprises possible only the form? On the contrary. You can twist and play with it but do not REALLY mess with it,

Is it possible to write hard hitting, explicit bdsm erotica with other values in it; to not only ‘write sex’ (in a very broad sense of the word) but also write ABOUT sex and the people having it and where and WHY? Can we talk about other subjects as well and use elements from other genres to express emotions. Ho about just stepping out of paved path to feel uncut grass under our toes?
At best it is VERY hard, especially if you do the unexpected. I do not know if the porn parts are detrimental to the overall seriousness of the work. Hell, maybe it IS about porn! On the other hand even Harold Robbins did that in the second part of his career when he was just ‘manufacturing’ book after book. He mixed porn scenes with his other, standard stuff. More often than not, it did not work for me. I kept skipping over one part looking for the other, the skipping again. I usually ended up hating both. Similar thing happened to we with some Marketplace books. The trick was to fuse them.
YES, it can be done and be great fun, too. Just be prepared that it might not be appreciated. And do not talk about the genre WITHIN the genre. Most readers like to ride the genre-cards, but they do not like to be reminded of that and if you change the genre-cards or fuse them . . . Well, some will like it. Just be prepared for those who will say: “What? How did the Corvette become flying carpet? It can’t be!” Oh yes it can and it can be meaningful and so much pure fun.