Profile for Biscuit Burlesque:
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- has posted 10 stories and 58 replies on question of the week
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I lurk.
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Best answers to questions:
» Sexual fetishes
Tales of an ex -pro Domme
I was a Pro-Domme (Dominatrix, whatever you want to call it) for a few years whgilst living in the West Country. I love fetishes - mine and other peoples'.
In that time I have met quite a few characters, and seen and done quite a few things: people like the sissy maid who wanted to be tied with rope and have his/her feet caned; the woman who loved having her feet tied to a chair and then tickled with feathers; the guy who paid me an indecent sum of money to straddle him and flick his nipples whilst making small talk about ordinary things; and the "Headmaster" who tested my powers of improvisation by making me recount (with no time to prepare in advance) exactly what had led me to his "office" wearing the wrong colour knickers.
I have caned someone till they bled, flogged someone till they cried, tied up and teased a serving police officer with a penchant for rope, and much, much more.
I also spent 3 years as a sub to another pro-Domme, and in that time I have also been caned till I bled and flogged till I screamed. I have a particular fetish for knives and other sharp and bladed implements.
I've done Scenes naked and in public (the Skin2 after party was just...wicked), and I've laughed, cried, begged, pleaded and thanked my way through that and other relationships. There's very little I won't try as a sub or as a Domme, if I'm with the right person.
I fucking love my life sometimes.
(Tue 27th Oct 2009, 15:00, More)
Tales of an ex -pro Domme
I was a Pro-Domme (Dominatrix, whatever you want to call it) for a few years whgilst living in the West Country. I love fetishes - mine and other peoples'.
In that time I have met quite a few characters, and seen and done quite a few things: people like the sissy maid who wanted to be tied with rope and have his/her feet caned; the woman who loved having her feet tied to a chair and then tickled with feathers; the guy who paid me an indecent sum of money to straddle him and flick his nipples whilst making small talk about ordinary things; and the "Headmaster" who tested my powers of improvisation by making me recount (with no time to prepare in advance) exactly what had led me to his "office" wearing the wrong colour knickers.
I have caned someone till they bled, flogged someone till they cried, tied up and teased a serving police officer with a penchant for rope, and much, much more.
I also spent 3 years as a sub to another pro-Domme, and in that time I have also been caned till I bled and flogged till I screamed. I have a particular fetish for knives and other sharp and bladed implements.
I've done Scenes naked and in public (the Skin2 after party was just...wicked), and I've laughed, cried, begged, pleaded and thanked my way through that and other relationships. There's very little I won't try as a sub or as a Domme, if I'm with the right person.
I fucking love my life sometimes.
(Tue 27th Oct 2009, 15:00, More)
» God
Apocolypse? Saturday, 0815 apparently.
My first post; please be nice. Hell, be as nasty as you want actually, I'm fairly thick-skinned...
Anyhoo.
It was eight of the a.m. on a clear summer Saturday morning. My flat - from which I was moving - was on the 3rd floor of a block, and I was on my own.
Cue moving all my heavy items one by one to the lift, down the lift, out the door and into the van. Lock van. Lather, rinse, repeat.
I'm going somewhere with this, I promise.
Right. Relevant bit. Bear in mind it's the wee hours of a Saturday morning. I'm lugging large items out a flat and into a big shiny van.
Whilst moving one particularly heavy box, I am stopped at the communal entrance by 2 very smiley, friendly looking ladies in tweed overcoats and pork pie hats. I kid you not.
And they were armed with pamphlets.
"Excuse me, young lady - do you have a moment?" they ask.
"Erm...not really", I reply, shifting my heavy box from one hip to the other. "I'm kind of busy."
"Well it won't take a minute" the other assures me.
*sigh* "Alright then, hang on"
Pantomime of trying to open heavy van door without putting heavy box somewhere I won't lift it from again. Manage, and turn, heaving and sweating, to the two women. Neither of whom, incidentally, have in any way lifted a finger - or even offered - to help.
"Yes?"
"Well, we'd like to talk to you about the Apocalypse."
Pause.
"...at 0815 in the morning?"
"Oh yes. The apocalypse. [cue random quotations from the bible about how the end of the world is nigh, ad nauseum]."
They explain that only the worthy will enter heaven, yada yada yada. I politely explain that I am in fact entirely unworthy by their book. Puzzled looks. I expand on my explanation by assuring them that I have no hope of salvation because I am in fact a flagrant homosexual. A lesbian. A dyke. And many, many more colourful euphemisms and metaphors. And also entirely unrepentant.
Silence. As though of one thought, they turn away from me without another word. And proceed to ring the doorbell of every flat (about 90 in total) to spread the word of the impending Judgement.
And they still looked puzzled every time someone cursed down the intercom at them, or just plain hung up without a word.
Factoid: sleepy, often hungover people do not like to be woken up at just gone 8am on a weekend to be told that the End Is Nigh. They prefer to be told after a mug of coffee and a bagel.
And someone who you have just proceeded to ignore because your religion tells you to hate them is going to have little sympathy.
(Fri 20th Mar 2009, 22:29, More)
Apocolypse? Saturday, 0815 apparently.
My first post; please be nice. Hell, be as nasty as you want actually, I'm fairly thick-skinned...
Anyhoo.
It was eight of the a.m. on a clear summer Saturday morning. My flat - from which I was moving - was on the 3rd floor of a block, and I was on my own.
Cue moving all my heavy items one by one to the lift, down the lift, out the door and into the van. Lock van. Lather, rinse, repeat.
I'm going somewhere with this, I promise.
Right. Relevant bit. Bear in mind it's the wee hours of a Saturday morning. I'm lugging large items out a flat and into a big shiny van.
Whilst moving one particularly heavy box, I am stopped at the communal entrance by 2 very smiley, friendly looking ladies in tweed overcoats and pork pie hats. I kid you not.
And they were armed with pamphlets.
"Excuse me, young lady - do you have a moment?" they ask.
"Erm...not really", I reply, shifting my heavy box from one hip to the other. "I'm kind of busy."
"Well it won't take a minute" the other assures me.
*sigh* "Alright then, hang on"
Pantomime of trying to open heavy van door without putting heavy box somewhere I won't lift it from again. Manage, and turn, heaving and sweating, to the two women. Neither of whom, incidentally, have in any way lifted a finger - or even offered - to help.
"Yes?"
"Well, we'd like to talk to you about the Apocalypse."
Pause.
"...at 0815 in the morning?"
"Oh yes. The apocalypse. [cue random quotations from the bible about how the end of the world is nigh, ad nauseum]."
They explain that only the worthy will enter heaven, yada yada yada. I politely explain that I am in fact entirely unworthy by their book. Puzzled looks. I expand on my explanation by assuring them that I have no hope of salvation because I am in fact a flagrant homosexual. A lesbian. A dyke. And many, many more colourful euphemisms and metaphors. And also entirely unrepentant.
Silence. As though of one thought, they turn away from me without another word. And proceed to ring the doorbell of every flat (about 90 in total) to spread the word of the impending Judgement.
And they still looked puzzled every time someone cursed down the intercom at them, or just plain hung up without a word.
Factoid: sleepy, often hungover people do not like to be woken up at just gone 8am on a weekend to be told that the End Is Nigh. They prefer to be told after a mug of coffee and a bagel.
And someone who you have just proceeded to ignore because your religion tells you to hate them is going to have little sympathy.
(Fri 20th Mar 2009, 22:29, More)
» Trolls
Every so often I contribute
to a website called thatsfuckingstupid.com. No, this isn't shameless self-promotion, I just want to make sure no-one thinks I am thieving this article like a swan-eating gyppo with a TV hidden in his underpants.
We at TFS always like to hear the opposite side of the story from ours. We love to read other people’s opinions and well thought out ripostes.
But what we love even more than that are stupid people. People who have mastered the art of the hysterical keyboard mash, and who invariably fall into one of two categories:
1. Those who use the words “100%” in their posts, despite being an uneducated mouth-breather who will spout any form of quasi-reasonable sounding drivel as long as it comes from someone similarly white, middle class and boundlessly stupid. Daily Heil types, you know who they are.
2. Those who assume ironic, pseudo-pretentious poses and are utterly, utterly convinced that this impresses people with how clever he is, when in fact we openly attempt to bait him so that he will carry on churning out his own auto-back-patting postings with the aid of a thesaurus and a jar of Ribena.
We shall call them Trolls.
The Troll is a curious beast. It may lurk around in dark corners of the internet, avoiding sunlight, showers and nutritional food, and only delurking when suitably riled. These types are blessedly easy targets – it’s kind of like waving a steak at a pissed-off pitbull. You just know it’s gonna bite and bark and jump about like its arse is on fire, yet you do it anyway, don’t you?
This type will snap at the first provocation and will undoubtedly believe that TIPING THIGNS IN CAPS MAEKS THEM TRUE, I KNOW 100% THIS IS FACT!!!1.
They are the intellectual equivalent of the Youtube commentor. They haven’t really got much past the evolutionary equivalent of the “OMFG U’R SO GHEY” argument. These people are impossible to reason with; would you reason with a dog that shits on your rug then looks at you, proud of the steaming pile of turd he has produced? No. You slap it down and banish it back to the dark corner whence it came.
Such Trolls as fall into category 1. have a propensity to use percentages to demonstrate FACT(TM). A prime example would be “i may not be medically trained but i am not stupid…i am the mother of a boy with acquired autism and i know 100% it was the MMR which caused the autism”.
It’s important to emphasise that Trolls like this are immune to reason (despite being against vaccinations, ironically enough) and do not let a plethora of studies and scientific evidence sway them from the path of FACT(TM). They are the only person in the debate in possession of FACT(TM), despite being a hysterical keyboard-basher jumping on an already-dismissed panicwagon created from an unholy mix of conviction that the authorities are conspiring against them and plain old middle class TEH FEAR. Of what? Who knows; maybe daylight, or other people, or rational, reasoned dialogue (most likely).
Trolls like this can be relied upon to descend in to badly spelled CAPSLOK RIDDEN HISTERIA at any point, which is always a really, really good indicator of your intellectual credibility.
They genuinely, really and truly believe that they alone are the maverick free-thinker among the sheeple masses. This makes them ripe for a bit of delusional paranoia – a really good Troll won’t let something lie until they have demonstrated their conviction that some government agency somewhere is watching them / withholding vital evidence that will prove the Troll right beyond all doubt, and that the lack of evidence to support their paranoid delusion is “pretty CONVENEINT, eh???!1”
Whilst fun to play with, having a set-to with someone like this is the rough equivalent of bear-baiting. Sure, it’s fun to see them shuffling and grunting and flailing whilst you repeatedly poke them, but it gets old pretty quickly.
The fun starts when one of the other types of Troll shambles onto the scene. The ones that are just about intelligent enough to believe they’re a wit, when in fact they’re only half a one.*
Such types will often come across in their posts as making painful yet hilarious attempts to sound supercilious and aloof, usually through the misuse of sarcasm. Phrases such as “Yes, splendid idea! let’s all do what you say, because obviously you know better than anyone else!” feature quite heavily in the blatherings of this particular Troll variant. Note that this Troll has picked up on the fact that the CAPS LOCK SARCASM approach does not work, and instead treads dangerously close to irony through reckless use of the Italics command.
The origin of troll may be the more intelligent people trolling for suckers, but has since moved on to being the people who post controversial, inflammatory, irrelevant or off-topic messages in an online community.
Don't you just love em?
Also, for some quality trollage, check out the comments on the MMR vaccinations here:
www.thatsfuckingstupid.com/index.php/2008/11/28/just-a-quickie-you-wont-feel-a-thing/
That was an awesome afternoon's entertainment right there.
*Thank you, Terry Pratchett, you are a Flying Spaghetti Monster among men.
(Fri 20th May 2011, 0:11, More)
Every so often I contribute
to a website called thatsfuckingstupid.com. No, this isn't shameless self-promotion, I just want to make sure no-one thinks I am thieving this article like a swan-eating gyppo with a TV hidden in his underpants.
We at TFS always like to hear the opposite side of the story from ours. We love to read other people’s opinions and well thought out ripostes.
But what we love even more than that are stupid people. People who have mastered the art of the hysterical keyboard mash, and who invariably fall into one of two categories:
1. Those who use the words “100%” in their posts, despite being an uneducated mouth-breather who will spout any form of quasi-reasonable sounding drivel as long as it comes from someone similarly white, middle class and boundlessly stupid. Daily Heil types, you know who they are.
2. Those who assume ironic, pseudo-pretentious poses and are utterly, utterly convinced that this impresses people with how clever he is, when in fact we openly attempt to bait him so that he will carry on churning out his own auto-back-patting postings with the aid of a thesaurus and a jar of Ribena.
We shall call them Trolls.
The Troll is a curious beast. It may lurk around in dark corners of the internet, avoiding sunlight, showers and nutritional food, and only delurking when suitably riled. These types are blessedly easy targets – it’s kind of like waving a steak at a pissed-off pitbull. You just know it’s gonna bite and bark and jump about like its arse is on fire, yet you do it anyway, don’t you?
This type will snap at the first provocation and will undoubtedly believe that TIPING THIGNS IN CAPS MAEKS THEM TRUE, I KNOW 100% THIS IS FACT!!!1.
They are the intellectual equivalent of the Youtube commentor. They haven’t really got much past the evolutionary equivalent of the “OMFG U’R SO GHEY” argument. These people are impossible to reason with; would you reason with a dog that shits on your rug then looks at you, proud of the steaming pile of turd he has produced? No. You slap it down and banish it back to the dark corner whence it came.
Such Trolls as fall into category 1. have a propensity to use percentages to demonstrate FACT(TM). A prime example would be “i may not be medically trained but i am not stupid…i am the mother of a boy with acquired autism and i know 100% it was the MMR which caused the autism”.
It’s important to emphasise that Trolls like this are immune to reason (despite being against vaccinations, ironically enough) and do not let a plethora of studies and scientific evidence sway them from the path of FACT(TM). They are the only person in the debate in possession of FACT(TM), despite being a hysterical keyboard-basher jumping on an already-dismissed panicwagon created from an unholy mix of conviction that the authorities are conspiring against them and plain old middle class TEH FEAR. Of what? Who knows; maybe daylight, or other people, or rational, reasoned dialogue (most likely).
Trolls like this can be relied upon to descend in to badly spelled CAPSLOK RIDDEN HISTERIA at any point, which is always a really, really good indicator of your intellectual credibility.
They genuinely, really and truly believe that they alone are the maverick free-thinker among the sheeple masses. This makes them ripe for a bit of delusional paranoia – a really good Troll won’t let something lie until they have demonstrated their conviction that some government agency somewhere is watching them / withholding vital evidence that will prove the Troll right beyond all doubt, and that the lack of evidence to support their paranoid delusion is “pretty CONVENEINT, eh???!1”
Whilst fun to play with, having a set-to with someone like this is the rough equivalent of bear-baiting. Sure, it’s fun to see them shuffling and grunting and flailing whilst you repeatedly poke them, but it gets old pretty quickly.
The fun starts when one of the other types of Troll shambles onto the scene. The ones that are just about intelligent enough to believe they’re a wit, when in fact they’re only half a one.*
Such types will often come across in their posts as making painful yet hilarious attempts to sound supercilious and aloof, usually through the misuse of sarcasm. Phrases such as “Yes, splendid idea! let’s all do what you say, because obviously you know better than anyone else!” feature quite heavily in the blatherings of this particular Troll variant. Note that this Troll has picked up on the fact that the CAPS LOCK SARCASM approach does not work, and instead treads dangerously close to irony through reckless use of the Italics command.
The origin of troll may be the more intelligent people trolling for suckers, but has since moved on to being the people who post controversial, inflammatory, irrelevant or off-topic messages in an online community.
Don't you just love em?
Also, for some quality trollage, check out the comments on the MMR vaccinations here:
www.thatsfuckingstupid.com/index.php/2008/11/28/just-a-quickie-you-wont-feel-a-thing/
That was an awesome afternoon's entertainment right there.
*Thank you, Terry Pratchett, you are a Flying Spaghetti Monster among men.
(Fri 20th May 2011, 0:11, More)
» Bullies
I was quite badly assaulted when I was 16
Sexually, in fact. On school premises. From a guy who'd been sexually harassing me for a good 18 months.
I got slammed against a wall, choked mostly unconscious and then assaulted with hands. At 0815 on a Thursday morning.
But I got my own back on the bastard. I never told anyone, dumped my boyfriend and went lesbian.
That showed the little fucker alright. F.A.C.T.
Length? I've repressed that particular memory.
It's good to joke about it.
First post on QOTW. I'd say be nice, but so many of you are the most brilliantly bitchy people who constantly make my day that I wouldn't insult you with such an entreaty.
(Wed 20th May 2009, 22:02, More)
I was quite badly assaulted when I was 16
Sexually, in fact. On school premises. From a guy who'd been sexually harassing me for a good 18 months.
I got slammed against a wall, choked mostly unconscious and then assaulted with hands. At 0815 on a Thursday morning.
But I got my own back on the bastard. I never told anyone, dumped my boyfriend and went lesbian.
That showed the little fucker alright. F.A.C.T.
Length? I've repressed that particular memory.
It's good to joke about it.
First post on QOTW. I'd say be nice, but so many of you are the most brilliantly bitchy people who constantly make my day that I wouldn't insult you with such an entreaty.
(Wed 20th May 2009, 22:02, More)