What do you mean? She won’t let you have one

So, I’m walking my friend Andromeda’s pet sub Sinn Ister.

Who simply begs until we stop at the name brand coffee house, when I bump into an old friend from college.

Unlike myself, he’s still fit and looking well to do, nice car, nice watch, nice jogging togs and nice new running shoes.  And he’s chatting me up for some network marketing Ponzi hustle. So, he walks with me over to my table where, there she is, sweet and quiet as a church mouse.

Sinn.

http://andromedasden.com/

 I’m listening to him talk shit while I do this whole preparation thing, I must do. Pouring her soy milk chai  into her bowl, sit it on the floor before her and say some words of gratitude. Then I can sit down to read my paper and enjoy my coffee.

And he goes all daytime TV on me. “For real Periwinkle! Forreally doe Nikka. Yo! For Real. You got it like that? Oh hell No. I know your old square nerdy ass ain’t pimpin’ in shit! Man! She won’t let me have one of those. You know my Camille, she won’t let even let me have a fantasy.”

Sinn looks up, lays her chin in my lap and whispers, “He thinks I’m your bitch. That’s cute. What do you mean? She won’t let you have one. That would be two subs in the same house with no dom. How’s that work Periwinkle? A sub’s gotta have a dom."

http://www.foxystoybox.com/store/p-3149-ff-furry-heart-paddle.aspx

Somewhere in the background of this conversation, he’s telling me about some new direct sales thing he’s into.

I kiss her forehead. “Sweetheart you just can’t go around dropping “R” bombs on everybody. Now finish your coffee, before someone else recognizes me. Thank you. “Periwinkle, you’re not ashamed of being here with me are you?”

“No Sinn. Don’t even think it. I’m ashamed to be here, but not with you.”

http://www.foxystoybox.com/store/p-16004-rapture-polished-stainless-steel-collar.aspx

Dood! (He’s not Dude, let’s get this in order)

“No. I’m bitch sitting. Dood! Watching after Mistress Andromeda’s pets is one part of my job. Today I’m lucky, I got Sinn. Most of the time it’s that bitch boy Vikkie on a leash. Then I have to contend with more than just fucked up people and fucked up coffee at fucked up prices.” I whack Sinn’s ass with the furry heart paddle she keeps in her backpack.”

“So, Just what kind of job pay’s you to walk around town with sexy ass white girls on leashes?” I say, “Dood are you kidding, this is a fantasy. No one pays me to do this part of the job.

I’m an advertising executive at Foxy’s Toybox

A woman walks by and stops to talk at Sinn regarding her Hustler Police Officer outfit, “Because, Mister Bubbles, you’ll be safer with me dressed like a cop.”She says and shiny new stainless steel collar. “It’s okay”, I say, “You can talk to her like the human being she is. Sinn is neither a baby nor a dog.”

They go into the whole thing about being a lifestyle sub and model while I get caught up on the last fifteen years with… I think his name is Courtland or something like that.

Foxy’s Toybox was created to encourage a healthy exchange between consenting adults. Adult play isn’t wrong. It isn’t forbidden. Adult play brings people closer together, helps form a deeper intimacy, a stronger bond.

The folks at Foxy’s want to do our best to make your life richer, fuller… MORE FUN! We carefully select the items in our catalog with relationships building in mind. Whether that relationship be between you and a significant other, or an exploration of yourself and your needs and desires.

Writing Lapis

I sat up from my fantasy of waking up with my head buried between your thighs. Neck and shoulders sopping wet with sweat and cum. Your fingers gently stroking my crown, cheeks and brows. Recondite in repose, smoking something lovely and gently humming a song.

I imagined you saying, “I’m glad you untied me before you fell asleep. I didn’t even get a chance to properly thank you. But now, I feel the urge to be productive, so I gotta go! Still, if you don’t mind, I’d hate to leave in your present condition.

You somehow manage to maneuver around me without losing contact with my hands. I love my hands. Especially on your skin. Selfishly enjoying the ebb and flow of you, guiding them everywhere you want them to be. I am supremely grateful as you slip the condom over your toy for the morning, with your mouth, smooth it out with your fingers ringed around the base. Sliding off my face, down my chin, over my chest, belly and teasingly onto your living dildo. In my mind you say, “Good morning Mr. Happy Dick and how are you today?” You turned around and kiss my forehead, then your left leg follows your body around, one foot tucked under your ass cheek and the other planted firmly on the floor. You kissed my mouth then told me, looking at your phone, “We don’t have much time. I want you to cum hard for me. I’ll give you an orgasm later. I promise.”

So, I did. You kissed me and was gone.

I sat up, lit a square and started writing this.

Thank you.    

I’ve been struggling to recall something vivid about the sexual encounters of my life. The women are mostly remarkable, I can recount with such accurate detail the before and after moments of every woman I’ve loved and can recount the experience so that each one of them would know whether or not I was describing them. But everything during is a blank, insignificant rather unremarkable, and that makes me sad sometimes. Because from all I’ve able to glean, the promise of mind shattering, life altering, beautiful sex was what was supposed to be the point. This is the one thing I seem to have in common with masochists. Without something jarring, overwhelming, I’m too present, too aware to record my own experience.

So, I make up those moments and pin them. This is one.

And only

The Whispering:

I’m not a submissive, not a wife, not a lover for him. I’m selfish, masochistic brat. I want to be his Brat, spoiled and punished according to my behavior and I’d do anything to feel that damned bamboo crop across my thighs. I’d been couch surfing at his house a few weeks, when I realized, to have him the way I want him would destroy him, at least the part of him I love and want in my life , but my pussy is in control and right now I don’t care about the future. He knew it too and was still willing to accept it and he was going to hold me to it. Just to teach me a harsh lesson. His place was loud and crowded, filled with an angry hunger that could not be eased. The televisions and stereos and voices went in his head they were real and determined to keep themselves one hunnard. Periwinkle only slept in my arms and then very lightly. He stopped painting, stopped writing and started becoming like furniture. He wasn’t having it. I wanted the ability to push his buttons to one of two ends, acquiescence or bound beaten and ruthlessly fucked in every hole, before being commanded to serve his will. He laughed at me and through his back pack over his shoulder and walked out the door. He wanted ritual discipline, informed inspiration. He demanded an article of articulate explanation of exactly what my expectation of myself are and what we needs to be held to the duty of making sure that I hold up to my standards, for me. Nothing else. Not in service to him, but in service to my own beliefs. An expression of my own faith. As my chosen method of achieving my greatest desires.  I craved his hands hard on my skin, shaping, carving, pounding, slapping, and molding my form to fit his desire. I don’t give a fuck about that. I wanted to be his work of art. Not the inspiration of his works, the art itself. To be his muse is too much work, too much time, too much discipline.
I didn’t want him to let go of his Imagined Nation, just defer his dream until I was sated. He smiled at me and explained again, as he’d done a thousand times before. “I don’t want to be your Daddy. I want be a founding village elder. And you are not going to allow any other woman to enjoy the pleasures I desire that you won’t or can’t fulfill. And in that, abstinence is better than monogamy. You’ll never get past a hug, unless you accept the contract or accept that this is just another fuck to get out of your system.” He puffed at his joint and continued, “I am an instrument of expressed desire. With the ability to manifest your abstract longings as tangible complete thoughts. But if all you want of me is me, so be it. In a few weeks you’ll hate me, wish you never met me, hate yourself for wasting your time and energy and I’ll go back to doing the same damned thing I was doing when I allowed you to be seduced by your idea of me. What you’re offering me, I can get for the price of a beer and a burger or less.” He knew I’d resist and could only be dragged by hair or foot into my expression of my best self. He wanted something beyond the branded and collared Kajira, he demanded Devadasi nothing less was acceptable. “He exhaled his smoke and said, “So, what’s it going to be? A few weeks of sex that I won’t remember with a woman I’ll never forget or a lifetime of loving friendship with sex you’ll never forget.” He knew I wanted to be a part of his life forever, he knew I wanted to fuck more than I was willing to admit and he knew, I was in control, I had the power and that’s the one thing I wanted to give up. I wanted him to take it and I honestly felt jilted that he wouldn’t.
 
On the ride home he said some shit that almost made me slap him in the mouth. “If you do this shit my way, you can fuck any big swinging dick donkey you want I’ll happily blindfold you and have Andromeda torture you when you need to escape and I’ll lay this cane across your ass, thank you and tell you how proud I am of you, when you complete whatever task you want me to help you achieve. If I’m going to punish you I just won’t deal with your shit.”
 
I was lounging in his bed watching some boring ass porn and trying to get wet and excited when he walked in from working on some volunteer community project.  
 
He kicked off his muddy boots and came in the house exhausted, hurting from days of working like a common laborer, without a greeting or acknowledgement, and it pissed me off. I’m special and he needs to treat me as such. So far, he’s slept on his living room floor every night I’ve been here. I’m beginning to suspect he does it more often than not. He’s supposed to be supervising the whole show, in a dark suit climbing out of a dark truck or sedan. Someone I can be proud of when I show him off to my bougie friends and family. Not living like some sixteen century monk. He should be leaned back in a big leather chair that matched his title. Behind his desk, playing some brain game or doing busy work until I arrived to distract him, so that I could fulfill my fantasy of fulfilling his fantasy of taking me on his desk. Instead, he dragged his feet into the bath, turned on the shower, stripped and stepped in.
When he didn’t walk out within his usual militarily efficient time of wet, scrub, rinse, scrub, rinse, dry off, clean up, dress and walk out. Usually all of fifteen minutes, twenty five if it’s a shit, shower, shave ritual. I followed him in and found leaned against the wall, practically asleep, water and steam rolling off his body. He is not the vision of the tall, sun darkened, well-muscled hardworking man I fantasize he just dose the work. I stripped out of my yoga pants, warm soft socks, t-shirt and panties and climbed in with him. When I pressed against him to make the water hotter and take the wash cloth from his dangling hand, he simply flexed with me. When I gently rubbed his back with the soapy rag he didn’t even acknowledge me. He was supple and limp as a marionette. I scrubbed him hard and he moaned in appreciation. I covered his back and ass and thighs, legs and feet with soap, dropped the cloth and rubbed ‘til the knots and bubbles deep under his skin popped and rolled away. I turned him around and washed his face, neck, long thin arms, narrow shallow chest and soft bowl belly. I knelt to his feet and worked my way back up his thin ankles and rock hard calves to his thick round thighs that don’t seem like they should belong on this body. My face lightly brushed his leg and he twitched. I scrubbed and caressed his center, between his thighs, the crack of his narrow ass, his balls and cock, then I took the shower head down and carefully rinsed his body, following the water with touches and kisses. I was still pissed with him, but his reaction made me so horny I didn’t care. If this went down the way I knew it would, I might never see him again. If it went down the way I wanted it to, he’d be treated to this on a regular basis. I turned him over and leaned in to kiss his ass. He reached my head and stopped me, turned stood me up and growled, “Get out. Thank you, but get out.”
 
A few minutes later he walked out a cloud of steam in a gray sarong, t-shirt and socks. Went into the kitchen and pulled an apple from the fridge. ‘Do you want me to fix you something to eat?” He was too tired for his usually biting responses, with half closed eyes, he bit into his apple, closed the door and nodded yes, swallowed and softly said, ”Yes, please. Thank you. That would be nice.” Then slowly trudged past me to sit in the living room’s darkness. This was something beyond physical fatigue. This was something emotional.
“Periwinkle, what’s going on?” I shouted from the kitchen.
“I got carried away and hurt a boy today. Broke my heart. But I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just reacted.”
“What happened?”
“Fuckin’ kid came up to harass his daughter’s mother, Alexis, one of the apprentices. He was tugging at the feed hoses while she was on a scaffold spraying insulation on a wall. When I approached him to ask that he save it ‘til she came down, he flashed his gun at me. And yellin’ “Don’t step up on me old man, I’ll fuck you up in this piece.” I think I made him shoot his dick off. I know I broke his collar bone. I spent half an hour explaining everything to this big dumb cop, before his supervisor showed up.
I’m sorry, I’m just tired and heartbroken right now. I didn’t have to wreck his life.”
 
When I turned the lights on he was crying and I’m thinking, the other man had a gun. Why aren’t you the one that’s fucked up right now? “Well you did what you had to do. Want anything else?” He mumbled under his breath, “A joint, a scotch, a beer, a bag of chips, to watch myself receiving a sloppy blowjob on the teevee screen, a cigar, a sandwich, a hug and about eighteen hours to myself. He thought that little girl was fuckin’ me. I told him, if I was fuckin’ Alexis, she wouldn’t be on that scaffold, you would. She’d be in the kitchen or in the studio making food or art or music, managing someone’s career or something, instead of building a house for her children to call home. Because their mothers raised entitled little useless bitches like you, I’m one of the only men they have. You can’t completely blame Daddy, he’s playing war games, dead or worse locked up. He’s a genetically modified hold over from chattel slavery, designed to capitalize on your genetically encoded programming. He’s got fifteen children by nine different mothers who will always crave a deep dark mind numbing dick down, like a heroine junkie. Corporate America and American Consumers love him. I can pretend to be him for an hour or so, now and then, cause it’s fun to play dumb for a little…” And he was sleep.
 
 I came in the door yelling at him, “And I don’t know about this naked chick prancing around your house in her little frilly cute draws and shit!” He said, “I don’t trust her, right now, she’s dealing with some shit, when she’s well, she cleans my house, reads and draws. When she’s afraid or concerned with something, she strips and asks to be spanked. Otherwise, poor baby, she hurts herself when she believes no one is paying attention. So, when she comes in I inspect her body for bruises, cuts, scratches, burns, should I continue? She’s clever, been doing it since she was twelve, when she hurts herself I discipline her, when she leaves, I inspect her again, pay her and she leaves. This is some weird shit.” He takes a drag of his cigarettes, Looks up at me and says, “Oh, how are you. Somerset, tiptoed out to the threshold, when he acknowledged her presence, “Come here pretty girl. Let me look at you. How are you feeling child?” I don’t know why, there was nothing sexual about their exchange, but I was seeing red. She turned her back to him, looked at my mouth and curtsied deep. “He looked at me and said, “Pages twenty through forty?” She replied bending at the waist. No easy task for this thick white girl in her tight pink corset, “Page twenty four, “Why I my desire is the center of my universe.”, Page twenty seven, “One reason why I should project my fondest states as passionately as other express pain and fear.” I really like number nine.” “Then that is your one reason.” She stood straight, smiled and said, “Non corporeal beings don’t have taste buds. And I love bacon and ice cream and soup and bread and I love food. Oh Mister Bubbles, I hope you don’t mind, I’d like to take this toothbrush, to replace the one I scrubbed the bathroom with. Claire doesn’t deserve to brush her teeth with your waste. But the toilet is gleaming and I feel much better. Thank you. Now, I’m going to walk around the park, get a bowl of noodles, sit in the labyrinth and eat.”  He jumps up, claps his hands, stamps his foot and says, “Get dressed bitch! It’s Noodlee Tuesday. You’re distracting me with your frustrations. Move! Yella! Giddy up! Get the fuck out my house. Bring your sexy ass along. You’re coming too.

Lapis sat at her desk consumed with the realization, ‘I hated him. He is a master, but not my master. Not the kind of master I wanted him to be. For me and only me!

Then this thing came down the street with a big ball and trailer full of kids on the back.

It raised the ball up over the park, all the kids ran out to it, with yelling and shouts, between chants of “We want the Funk. Gotta have that Funk!” and with a bunch of commotion, whirling and hissing, flashing, heaving, pulsing and a light sprinkling of glittering mist, it went Poof! And just like that it the park was a disco tech.

He turns to me, smiles and says, "I want a summer luge. Talk to you later. I gotta find a landscape architect."

Fundamental Urban Naturalization Academy

 

I’m a novice of thirty seven weeks here.

Because of the love and disciplined guidance of my instructors, the staff and student body of this tiny university, my language skills have improved exponentially. I choose and use the words I employ carefully, for it is my goal to become a Mnemonic Angel in the order of Sister Maria Monroe. Selectively, she has the unique and profound ability to record and repeat encoded messages from one Patron Saint to another. Access to her services are in the highest demand.

I have chosen the name Lapis.

 

Competition: Pho Cue! Shut up, put these on and dance!

I'd like to offer you a free gift.

I don't always mean to be a jackass, but today somebody really pissed me off. So, if you don't mind, pour me a drink, put these on with something sexy, almost nothing, turn down the lights, 

shut the fuck up and dance!

Please.

i really don't care what you listen to, so long as it makes you wiggle and groove, 

Vibro Pod Digital Music Bullet Stimulator

because I don't want to talk about the shitty things people do. I don't want to hear you talk about your day. I'd rather look at your sexy ass shimmy in a dim light than the chick on the box, I usually hate the music I love to watch you dance to and now, I don't have to hear it!

If you really feel the need to express something, I'll be more than happy to accept and read five hundred words or more about why I should give you you these headphones and the Vibro Pod Digital Music Bullet Stimulator

Rock your world!  Plugs into your digital music player.  Two powerful, smooth and seamless, interchangeable Rubber Cote™ bullets.  It may be used with or without your MP3 Player.  8-function push button stimulator.

ABS with silky smooth Rubber Cote™ (PU Cote).  Requires 2 AAA batteries.  1.5” x .60”/4 cm x 2 cm (small bullet).  2.25”x 1”/6 cm x 3 cm (medium bullet).  Headphones not included.

Now ask me a question

Get It at Foxy's Toybox

Fox in Socks Reads: Deep Left Field:

 Fox in Socks part 1Deep Left Field:

So sorry my darling Sneeches

There will be no daring double didactics in these speeches.

However some will get stars on thars.

We’re going to play with my friend Andromeda.

Okay just a little

Fox in socks

Ass in sky
Ass up high, high high
Oh My

Foxes face deep in a Foxy's Toybox gift box.

"Oh my. Oh joy"

Jelly, dongs, lubes, jewels, plugs and cuffs and ropes and wheels, and strap-ons.

Toys fly to 

Toys fro

Foxy's toybox toys in my bed.

Toys from my fox's foxy toybox

flying go."Oh Boy!"

Box on my Foxy little fox's head.

"Toys toys toys from Foxy's toybox

Rocks my socks."

Fox on cock.

Cock in fox

Hmm mmm

"Suck cock Fox

That's enough said."

Andromeda is a dominatrix.

http://andromedasden.com/

Hush Ya’ll! Now.

Gather round children.

Zip it! Listen.

We’re going to paint the skies purple and pink, coral and navy, crimson and black.

Oh yes! I want to paint it black.

Shiny and wet.

Bound and helpless.

You all put on your masks,

While I put on my glasses

I’m your host for the evening

Capitan Vanilla the incorrigible Mister Periwinkle Bubbles.

Deep Left Field

I walked in the house to the scent of food, coffee and my favorite incense. The kids and their friends were happily walking out and laughing.

“Hey Mr. Bubbles. After Noon Mister Bubbles, Hi There Thaddeus’ Dad. Hey Dad, we’ll be back in about an hour or two to finish getting everything ready for the party.”

I grab a cup of coffee, light a smoke, walk in my room, ready to hit the drawing table and find you, almost asleep, sitting in the chair with the soft silk ropes hitched to the arms, just dangling, tempting and begging me to tie your wrists in hug tight bows. “So, what holiday do I have to thank for this pleasure and privilege?”

I’m thinking, neither being bound nor the kitten collar around your slender neck is your style. Still damn! I’d love to come home to this kind of sexy on extended weekends, holidays and special occasions.

But it’s just a twisted fantasy, not real. This is not real. Ice Cold.

                                “ICE COLD”

Yet, there you are. Headphones on, wearing my glasses, the cute little kitten collar I keep wrapped around the neck of a vase.

My #Two Three Shirt, a little blanket over your legs.

Thick fluffy socks slouched around your ankles, book in your lap and a quiet hum somewhere nearby.

“Really! My nineteen sixty seven Willie Horton jersey. For real?

You must really be horny. What are you doing?”

“Oh nothing in particular. Your kids just asked me to keep watch over you while they party tonight. I had visions of you standing at the top of the stairs with trays of cookies and snacks. So I agreed.”

I’m so unnerved, I automatically bark, “Stand up! Now let me take a look at you. Book, dildo still buzzing, blanket and glasses falling neatly into a pile in the chair,” You pop up to a full and bright attention, then slowly fade into a relaxed posture. Standing away, arms folded and staring at you through half closed eyes. “Stand tall, back straight, eyes forward, chin up. Are you wearing my draws?” My boxers look a thousand times better wrapped around your ass than I could ever imagine them on me. I circle around you then ask, “So, do you want me to kiss, slap or bite you’re ass? Something must be done.”

You take my hand and raise it above your head, slowly spin, wiggle, giggle and bend at the waist, lifting my shirt just high enough to display the space that demands attention, “Ah… well… mmm hmm… ahhh…yeah.. Well you see, mine got a little… moist. So um… You can kiss my ass!

Ah Yeah! You can slap it up flip it and rub it down. Kiss it, slap it, rub it, kiss it, bite it, kiss it, rub it and kiss it. Kiss, slap, kiss, bite, kiss and rub and kiss and rub and kiss and rub and kiss and rub and kiss my ass till your heart’s content. Please and thank you very much Sir. I’ve a lot of ass to cover.”

I honor your reply in good fashion.  With a hand on your belly to keep you from falling over and a sharp cold right hand smacking your happy beautiful behind, until my hand warms and leaves slight prints. Still properly bent forward at the waist, but now standing on your toes from the sting and chill of my hands. I gesture you up straight and you melt into the feel of my lips and tongue on your back and hips, you hmm and ahh, stammer and purr, “I’m sorry. Thinking about what all those kids might be doing in the basement. I-I didn’t want to distract you from your evening, I just got a little horny and ducked into your room to take the edge off. I’m sure you understand. I got caught up in the fantasy of being controlled, just a little, and put it on, pointing at the collar, imagining that you might appreciate something with no holds barred and no additional strings. I don’t want an awkward moment at the water cooler or holiday parties and I know how you are about friendship. Still I wanted to make out with someone that cares about me as a person, but oddly enough wouldn’t judge me for just wanting to fool around and I lost track of time. It is weird, that I really want to make out like teenagers and shit? I just want to cuddle up in your draws, on the couch and feel your hand on my booty. Is that alright? Do you think you can do that with me? Hmm!”

“I almost forgot, I got something for you.” I raise the bag and then dump the contents on floor at your feet. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. I ordered Asian, so I guess there’ll be enough. Wait!”

Flippin’ out my phone. “Call Chin.” Lighting a cigarette, checking watch. Taking my glasses back. “Hey Dharma. I’m sorry about the short notice, but could bring more beer.” Polishing glasses, “Yeah Sis, I know. I have a guest and I really don’t want her to leave. Shoving you over, off sarong, and smacking your ass. “Tell Singh, Yes! We’re still having the recital tonight.”

Looking up from the mess of toys on the floor, “Recital? Periwinkle…” I fan you off. “Oh! Oh really? I see that’s funny as fuck. Good, I’ll see you when you get here. This is great.”

I bend and kiss you on the forehead.  “You need to get up, take off my shirt, hang it back up and go get me a drink. In that order. Thank you. Now. Tonight is our quarterly book club, “The Fox in Socks Reads.” Sheldon would host one if he had a libido. I really hope he experiences Pong Far before the series ends. Tonight is a duet and Singh is half. They won’t tell me who the other Vixen is.  Any way Dharma Chin decided tonight would also be a good night for another installment of, “We’re cooking at your house tonight.” Joe kind of invented it, back when the double date was the thing to do. Hence, the kids partying in the basement instead of me hanging out there. Thank you.” Taking the drink from your hand. We have to find you something to wear tonight. It’s a fetish themed function.

  

What to wear at the next Fox in Socks Reads

Queen Of The Fucking Universe Sox

Humorous socks that tell it like it is. 

Functional and funny these socks will make a great gift for a number of occasions. 

Don't forget to pick up a pair for yourself!

Of course if you're the featured fox reading,
you'll need a pair of socks

Rapture Red Leather Mask

Red all leather mask accented with silver rivets around the edges

And since this absolutely falls under the category of not appropriate for work, you might want to wear a mask.


The Rules
Pretty simple:

The Fox or Vixen reads aloud in front of a live audience, for half an hour, from a literary work, chosen by a panel of jurors.

The Fox is nude except their socks, mask and the chosen book.

We play hard core for money.
People dress to the nines and come prepared.
The house gets half the Fox gets half.
We like to get self published writers under the reading light.

First we enjoy cocktails, tapas and talk.
The bell rings, the lights dim, the Line Judge has their score cards.

Ostrich Feather Tickler

Luxurious, genuine ostrich feather.

When the Fox commits a foul.
Fouls are a system of ranked reading errors.
The Line Judge holds up a colored and numbered card.
The Fox is punished.

Shock Therapy Pleasure Panty

The Jurors have paid for the right to administer the punishment.

The range of severity and types of punishments are based on the size of the Juror's booty. Difficulty of the text and the Fox's experience.
If the Fox calls their "Safe Word" or is in anyway unable to complete their recital.
The Jurors are returned the remaining portion of their fee.

The most severe punishments are reserved for punitive mistakes.
Skipping small words like it, the, he, she, and, but and or.

Fetish Fantasy Extreme

Shock Therapy Cock Strap

Jolt your sex life with a hardcore charge
with the Shock Therapy Cock Band.
Perfect for beginners and
those new to electro-sex,
this silicone cock strap into
the electro-power unit and
provides thrilling e-stimulation.

Fashionistas Pin Wheel

Tickle, tease and please your pet
with this pretty little Wartenberg Wheel

When the Fox completes a segment they are guaranteed a portion of the Juror's booty.

We tested the game on Anais Nin, Doctor Seuss, a couple of graphic novels and Lady Chatterley's Lover.
I called my safe word after only two pages of Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.


After we review and edit the video from the night, then publish it online.

It's the perfect game for a semi-literate masochist.

Foxy's Promo Photo Shoot: So I'm thinking

I've got to pick the stuff for the campaign, which kicks off around Valentine's day and closes at the end of Mardi Gras. So, I'm thinking a cute little toy party gathering at my house. Snacks, wine, beer and treats. Then break out the toys, to test drive and talk about.
Before a live product demo featuring Andromeda and Sinn Ister.

Here's my major problem. I'm vanilla, not a kinky bone in my body.
At the exact same time, I'm fascinated with everything erotic.
So, with a whole damned sex toy store with 45,000 products in the catalog. It's touch to pick just a few.
I'm supposed to be designing the catalog for Middle America. A wonderful people with multiple personality disorder. The duality of it all makes it tough, because let's face it. Everybody is a damned freak, but every one is publicly in denial.

Andromeda and Sinn Playing in Julie and Dan's backyard with the Fantasy Fetish Shock Therapy Kit from Foxy's Toybox. Give your sex life a "charge" with this incredible deluxe electro-sex kit. This electric stimulation Shock Therapy Kit is perfect for first-timers and those familiar to e-stimulation alike. The easy-to-read LCD screen on the digital power control unit clearly displays the function and intensity level, and with 3 pre-programmed pulsation patterns to choose from, this attractive control unit sends electrical impulses to whichever body part you place the pad on. Choose from a sensuous tingle to a throbbing tap, all with the push of a button, and pick one of the 5 body zones to stimulate. With over 100 stimulation combinations to choose from, the possibilities are endless. Choose a setting on the power unit's dial to control the intensity and go from a sensuous tingle to a throbbing tap in seconds. Switch between “SLOW” or “FAST” to control the frequency of the shock, or adjust the dial to control the strength of the shock.

Pink Champagne Bubble Bath

Blow Me Bubbles

FF Extreme Honey Bunny Latex Hood

Bondage Chair

Shock Therapy

Shock Therapy Pleasure Panty

Neon Bondage Tape

Visit Foxy's Toybox

Miss Sinn Ister

Sinn Ister is like Andromeda's version of Harley Quin.  She's