8 Weeks In - Ain't This A Bitch!

Well it sure has been an interesting ride, but no, we're not done yet!

I've got a lot to update you on.  Today marked the end of 8 weeks of denial and chastity.  This lock-down for Ms Constance has been about the strangest chastity experience I've been involved in since I first put on a chastity cage.

Since we started on March 15th, the chastity cage has broken twice, making it necessary to take it off and try to repair it, the latest breakage happening about a week ago.  I've tried twice to solvent-weld the loose joints in the polycarbonate, and obviously the first time wasn't the charm. It lasted almost exactly 2 weeks before the same joints came loose and the cage had to come off again.  I repaired it a second time, and this time the repaired joints look a lot better.  We'll just have to wait and see. Ms Constance just wants it to last until her planned date of my release, which as of yet I still don't know.  She isn't happy with this cage, and said I'm gonna have to get a stronger one before we do this again.

So, technically, I have only been locked in the cage for 6 weeks, with two 1 week breaks for cage repairs.  During the time I've been unlocked, it still hasn't been all peaches and cream though. For those weeks, I was placed on "No Touch Denial", and I still haven't decided yet on which method is more frustrating.  They are both pretty close if you ask me.

That brings us to tonight.  I had been wanting to call Ms Constance pretty badly, because we were at least 2 weeks overdue for a call, and I've been feeling pretty needywanty.  When Ms Constance and I discussed a date, she was adamant that I have the cage repaired in time for the call.  That got a fire lit under my little bitchass, and I was able to get the cage repaired, with the bonding fully cured with one day to spare.

The call finally happened tonight, and I went into it fully expecting that I was NOT gonna be allowed to cum, because Ms Constance had essentially told me as much when we first arranged the call.

After exchanging our hellos and some small talk (foreplay),  Ms Constance pounced and asked me if I'd like to go to Heaven tonight.  Of course I said YES!!!!  Since I was sitting at my computer when the call went through, Ms Constance suggested that I move to the bedroom instead.

Once in the bedroom, I sat on the edge of the bed while Ms Constance coached me through the most delicious sensual tease, while instructing me to lightly run my fingertips over my boobs and nipples, which got my nipples as hard as Modern Math.  Then, I was told to lay down on my back with my legs spread apart far enough for me to imagine Ms Constance kneeling in between them.  The tease continued, eventually gravitating to my denim skirt, which I was allowed to pull down.. At that point, I was allowed to do something that has been strictly forbidden over the last 8 weeks. I was allowed to actually place my hand over my clitty on top of my red string bikini, and start fondling and rubbing. OMG did that feel good!  After enjoying that for a little while, I was allowed an even more forbidden pleasure, and that was to actually put my hand under my panties and fondle and rub skin to skin.  If you think this is small potatoes, I suggest you don't touch yourself there for 8 weeks and then try it and see if you don't think it's pretty awesome too!

now, this is where Ms Constance really ramped things up.  I was actually allowed to rub, harder and harder, faster and faster, heading towards an edge, while Ms Constance worked over my mind with her voice. After only a few minutes of this, I was sunk so deep that I was agreeing to everything she said.  As I rubbed myself, getting closer and closer, I was told that the only way I'll ever be allowed to touch or stroke again will be with her permission.  I agreed that she owned me.  I agreed that she had full control of everything and that I would do everything and anything she asked.  I agreed that I was hers forever.  And here's the weirdest part, she even got me to ask her to lock me back up.  She even had me repeat it so the she could be sure we both remembered me saying it.

As her teasing and affirmations of my complete submission to her continued, I sunk deeper and deeper and I got closer and closer to the edge, I realized I was moaning her name over and over.  She was constantly asking me what I wanted more than anything, and I kept answering that I wanted to cum.  I felt like I was riding a wave that was eventually going to break, and I was gonna cum. Then, just as I got almost to the point of no return, I was told to take my hand away.  After a few minutes of cooldown, she told me to start rubbing again.  We repeated the climb towards the edge, and once again, just as I was about to go over, I was told to take my hand away.  And once again, after a short cooldown, I was told to start again.

It was somewhere around here that because of some things that Ms Constance was saying in my ear, that I started to believe that she might actually let me cum! We kept going, harder and faster, and I heard it again!  OMG, she's gonna let me cum!  I was so mindfucked by that point that I became convinced that she was either gonna ruin an orgasm or just flat out let me cum.  Nothing else ever entered my mind!  I was practically delirious as I approached the edge again.  As I got there and was about to go over, I knew that this was finally it!  This was when she would finally let me cum.

"Take your hand away!"

OMG, I KNEW going in that I wasn't gonna cum, but Ms Constance was sooo good that she convinced me that apples were oranges and I fell for it.  What a masterful job she did on me!

Then, after I knew that was as far as I was gonna go, she told me that it was time.

"Go get the cage, it's time for you to lock up, sweetie". 

And so, I took the cage into the bathroom, placed the phone on the vanity next to me, so I could hear Ms Constance and she could hear me.  It was a struggle, but I somehow got a set of swollen, purple balls to go through the cuff ring. I had a little trouble getting the cage portion on because my clitty was still not back down to it's unaroused size, but with a little lube placed where it needed to go, the cage finally slipped over and I was able to get a plastic lock through the pin, where I clicked it closed. I even held the phone next to it so Ms Constance could hear the snap of the lock.. While I was having such a hard time getting the cage on, I kept hearing Ms Constance laughing, and at one point, I actually heard the sound of her "Cannibal Proximity Alarm" going off.  After she came back from checking her doors to make sure they were locked, she had some final instructions for me.

I was to take a picture of her caged up property, showing the serial number of the lock.  In order to be sure this was not a faked picture (Ms Constance is very thorough when it comes to chastity), I had to write down a phrase that she just made up on a piece of paper, and show that in the picture. Then I had to email the photo to her. One of the things I love so much about Ms Constance is her sense of humor, and the phrase she came up with for the picture?   

"Ain't This A Bitch!"

Thank you so much for the fantastic call, Ms Constance.  You totally mindfucked me and didn't let me cum, but I absolutely loved every minute of it!

l.b.a.

 

Two Weeks In

Two weeks in.  That's how I'll begin marking this chastity journey with Ms Constance. I won't count the number of days left, because if I do, I'll drive myself crazy with the waiting, and besides that, it's something I have no control over anyway.  I do know how long it's been though, and even though it's in the past, it's a time frame solid enough for me to grab onto so I can use it for a reference.

It was two weeks ago today that the chastity cage first got locked on.  I actually suggested it myself, because Ms Constance had been telling  me how much she loved chastity play, and I knew that if it was ever going to happen, I'd better be ready for it.  I knew I'd have to get myself used to the cage again because I hadn't worn it for about 5 years.  From my previous experience, I thought I would need a minimum of about 2 weeks to get my tender areas stretched, toughened up, and used to the stresses that come from wearing one of these things 24/7.  And so I thought I'd wear the cage until I heard something more definite from Ms Constance.  In the meantime, she was doing a masterful job of pushing my buttons, while at the same time dragging out my anticipation while never telling me anything definite. Aside from the physical discomfort of the first week, I still felt that I would continue to condition my body for another week or so, and then unlock and remove the cage until such time that Ms Constance decided that it was time to play.

Just as the first week was coming to a close, and without warning, Ms Constance shifted gears and flat out told me in an IM that I was NOT to remove the cage without her permission, and that from that point on, all decisions were hers alone.  Those two simple little statements were all that it took to completely shift my perception from whatever had been normal up until then to that of a sub who had just given up all control of everything to my Mistress, all within a space of about 30 seconds.  Ms Constance, that was neatly done, and I'm still in awe of how quickly and completely you managed it!

We had a phone call the very next day where she explained all of her rules and what she would be expecting of me. I've already mentioned that call in my previous post, so I won't revisit that here.

 It was then that I made a discovery about myself that I never expected.  I knew that I enjoyed chastity play from when I did it a number of times with Ms Grace in the past, and I knew I loved the giving over of control, but I'd also assumed that because I enjoy bondage, I must've also loved wearing the cage. What I found out was something completely different though.  During that first week, circumstances dictated that I was not able to chat with Ms Constance for a few days, and the strangest thing happened.  During that time I found I was not liking the cage at all.  I hated the discomfort and the inconvenience of it.  I was ready to take it off, and I would have if not for the fact that we were finally able to be in contact once again.

So I was not in an "I Love The Cage" mindset then, but when she made her move and clamped her control down on me, everything abruptly changed. I know this analogy has been used many times, but it's true, it was like the point in the Wizard of Oz where the movie changes from black and white into color.  The physical discomfort and all the little inconveniences seemed to vanish, and were replaced by a high that is almost indescribable.  Because the only difference between week 1 and week 2 was that Ms Constance took control, I'm sure now that I never really liked physically wearing the cage at all. It's the act of surrendering myself to her control that makes it so satisfying for me. The cage is just a physical object that represents that surrender.

And so, like I said before, I'm two weeks in.  At this point I'm holding steady, and the physical discomfort is fading more and more each day.  I know that the longer I go, the mental aspect will become much more of a factor, but I think I can handle that, because I'm in the best of hands. Ms Constance is a wonderful Mistress and I'm happy as hell to be hers.  I'm also thrilled that she's getting as much out of this as I am.  I just wish I could give her more.  I'm really enjoying her hands-on approach and because of that I'm not concerned right now about how many more days I have left to go.  Sure that will probably change in the future, but right now, I want to go wherever she wants to take me.

I'll give you all another update in a few more weeks, unless I have something earthshaking to report.  I should also say thank you to all the Mistresses and friends who have been encouraging me in the early stages of this project.  I really do love and appreciate you all!  :)

little bitchass

Bitchass's Breaking News!

I just finished a call and wanted to let everyone know, and it became official this week, that I am now under the supervision and control of my Mistress, Ms Constance. I'm also in lockdown, with my junk owned by her, retroactive to last Saturday, March 15.

At this point, all I can tell you about the length of the lockdown is that the earliest I can get out will be June 1.  After that, whether I even get let out or not is completely the decision of Ms Constance, because I agreed to turn over complete control to her.  As for what I get out of it, I get to be associated with an awesome Mistress, and I also get to feel that yummy feeling of giving up control to her.  The fact that she digs that part is an even bigger plus for me.

I've gotta say I'm thrilled to death to start on this journey with her. I know it's gonna be difficult at times, but I'm gonna try my best to go the distance.  I've gone that long once before, but it's a big unknown after that.
So, if I start acting really weird, or at least any weirder than usual, there's probably a good reason for it. Wish me luck, everybody...

*Tosses car keys to Ms Constance and gets in the passenger seat*

little bitchass 

The Meeting

For Chapter I, go here

For Chapter II, go here

Chapter III

 It was an uneasy ride up to the 13th floor with Miss Christine.  She stood between me and the door, facing me and still slowly tapping the cane against her thigh like she was daring me to make a break once the elevator doors opened.  I briefly considered doing just that, but the sight of her awesome legs made me realize that if she ever got those thighs locked around me, she'd probably squeeze the life out of me like one of those big snakes I saw in that "Jem Of The Jungle" movie.  Besides that, my legs were still throbbing from the whacking she gave me, and I wasn't sure that I'd even be able to straighten them out if I needed to jump up and scram out in a hurry.  And so I decided I'd better not make any waves, and stayed sitting quietly on the floor of the elevator.

"Ding"

OK, we're here. Let's go. Up and at 'em.  And stay close so I can keep an eye on you. You're only cleared to be on this floor with an escort. 

I started to chuckle about her "escort" comment, but got serious again when I saw she still had the cane in her hand.

I struggled to my feet, my knees barely cooperating.  As soon as Miss Christine moved away from the doors, I could see a long hallway extending out in front of me, with what looked like offices on each side of the hall. I limped along behind her as she led me down the hall.  My balky knees were just starting to loosen up a little when we stopped in front of a door with a sign on it that read, "Cock Radio".  A voice from inside the room seemed to be in an animated and spicy discussion with somebody.

Miss Christine shoved me out of the way and knocked on the door.

Yeah? Who the fuck is it?

Empress Constance, this is Security Chief Christine.  The visitor that Headmistress Ally told you about is here to see you.

I'm on the fucking phone right now, but come the fuck in.  I'll fucking be with you in a minute.

Miss Christine opened the door and pushed me inside, stepping in behind me.  She parked herself right in front of the door, blocking any chance of me making a clean exit.. A real dish with blonde hair, who was obviously Empress Constance, was on the blower with somebody.

If I can't say fuck on Cock Radio, then when the fuck CAN I say fuck?  Besides, I do NOT constantly say fuck on my program!  What the fuck do you fucking people think I fucking do up here, for fuck's sake?

She slammed the horn down hard enough to crack walnuts and then turned her attention to me.

OK, so who the fuck are you again? Do I know you from fucking someplace?  Christine, what the fuck does this fucker want again?  Oh yeah, never mind, I fucking remember now, you're the fucking dick that's gonna find my fucking snitch for me!

I took a few steps forward and extended my hand.  I instinctively ducked when out of the corner of my eye I saw Miss Christine's arm come up to brush a wisp of hair away from her face. 

Hello Empress, I'm Girl Friday. I understand that you've had a little problem with a stool-pigeon, and I'm just the right dick to find your perpetrator for you.

Oh, right!  Yeah, why don't you sit the fuck down, and I'll fucking fill you in on the details.

I pulled out the chair beside Empress Constance's desk. I flinched again when I saw Miss Christine shift slightly in her stance, but I gingerly sat down, cracking sounds coming from both knees.

So, Empress Constance, what's the down-low on this?  I've never heard your show on the squawk box before, so I'm not sure where to begin.  From what I've heard so far, there's been somebody who's been flapping their gums to the FCC about some salty language that you allegedly use on the air. And you maintain that these allegations are completely untrue. Am I right so far?

Fucking A you're right! Everybody around here fucking knows that I NEVER use that kind of fucking language!  And that goes for my day to day activities as well as on this fucking radio!  It's just not fucking true!  I don't know where some fucker came up with those fucking lies about me!  This really fucking sucks!  It took me a long time to build up my fucking reputation as a sweet and soft-spoken Empress, and now some fucking fuckstain is trying to fuck all of that up for me!     

After I'd picked up my jaw, which had just fallen on the floor, I snuck a quick look back at Miss Christine, who just looked back at me with a slight grin and gave a little shrug of her shoulders.

Well Empress, I think that about says it all. It's very clear to me now that these allegations are obviously groundless.  It's also clear to me that our next step should be to determine if the snitch is an insider or an outside client.  Do you have any idea who might have reason to try and take you and the whole EE organization down?

I don't fucking know!  I fucking talk to hundreds of people here every fucking day!  I suppose it could be fucking anybody!

How about enemies?  Can you think of anybody who might have it in for you?

Now why in the fuck would I have any fucking enemies? Use your fucking head, Friday!

I started to feel like the meeting was going downhill fast, so I tried employing a calming tactic that I learned in PI school.

I'm sorry, but I have to ask these tough questions, Empress.  It's the only way we'll get to the bottom of this unfortunate business.  I think what needs to be done next is to interview some possible POIs. That's Persons Of Interest, in layman's terms.

I know what that fucking means!  Get on with it!  I've got a fucking radio show to do in a few fucking hours!

Well, I guess we should start grilling some people and see if we can get somebody to sing.  Who would you suggest we start with?

Miss Christine volunteered that she saw Ms Cooper in the office earlier in the day and that maybe if we left chop-chop, she might still be on the floor.

Good fucking choice.  Let's go!

And with that, Empress Constance, Miss Christine, and I beat feet down the hall to conduct our first interroga.... umm... interview.

(to be continued)

Girl Friday

Now We're Gettin' Somewhere...

For Chapter I, go here.

Chapter II
.

As I waited, I scoped out the steady stream of people who passed by me on their way to the reception desk.  After a short conversation, the receptionist would stamp something on the backs of their hands and then point them to one of the elevators that lined both sides of the lobby.  They all seemed to be clients of some sort, and all of them looked kinda nervous and tense as they talked with the receptionist.  A lot of them were rubbing up against the corners of the desk like they had an itch that they couldn't scratch.  As they chatted, I kept noticing the receptionist giving me the evil eye over the shoulders of the clients.  I felt in my bra for my roscoe, relieved that it hadn't fallen out while I was scraping the gum off of my shoe.  Even so, things were still looking a little hinky, so I kept one hand on the blade I had stashed in a garter under my skirt. And so I waited and I waited.  Eventually I dozed off.

I was jolted awake by the sound of a gong coming from the far end of the room behind the receptionist.  All heads in the room swiveled around in the direction of the sound, so I stood up and tried to see what all the hubbub was about.  There was another elevator door all by itself in the far wall.  It was larger than all of the others and had gold doors and expensive gold scrollwork surrounding it. My keen powers of observation told me that this was the VIP elevator.

As I watched, the doors slid open and some kind of procession started moving slowly out into the room.  There were four big palookas dressed in not much more than leather thongs carrying a fancy looking gold chair on poles. Standing on either side of the chair were two more guys dressed like the other guys, but they were waving big feather fans around.  Sitting in the chair was a real classy looking dame wearing a crown.  She was dressed in a shiny gold set of threads with a slit up one side that showed off a set of slinky gams that put mine to shame.  She obviously had never been shot in her knees like I had though.  Still, I was more than a little jealous.

I was shaken out of my trance when a stapler bounced off of the side of my head, knocking my fedora sideways.  I turned and looked in the direction that it came from, and caught sight of the receptionist, who was furiously waving me over with an impatient look on her face.  Rubbing the growing lump on the side of my head, I walked over to the desk.

That's Headmistress Ally.  She's the Big Cheese around here and she came all the way down from her penthouse just to see you, so make sure you show her the proper respect, you dolt!

I sized up the situation and then headed over to where the boys had set down the chair.  I walked up to the chair and held out my hand to the still seated Headmistress.

Hello Ally, I'm Gir....

*CRACK!*

OWWW!  Motherfu....

*CRACK!*

I felt an excruciating pain in the backs of my knees that hurt almost as bad as it did when I used to get shot there by my boss.  I crashed to the floor into a kneeling position.  Turning my head to see what had just happened, I saw the receptionist standing there, brandishing a stiff cane, like she was about to give me another kiss with it.

I said proper respect, you idiot!

She didn't have to tell me twice, so I tried again, this time from the kneeling position.

Hello Headmistress Ally.  My name is Girl Friday and I...

I know who you are and I know why you're here, so let's say we dispense with any of the trivial stuff and get down to brass tacks, shall we?

But of course, Headmistress, thank you for taking the time to come all the way down to speak with me.

Well, I was just heading out for lunch with my boys anyway, so it was really not much of an inconvenience.

I became aware of an unfamiliar sound from behind me and noticed that the receptionist was slowly tapping the cane against the side of her leg.  It looked like she was getting ready to paste me again, so I turned my attention back to Ms Ally while keeping the receptionist in my line of sight at the same time.

So, Girl Friday, my staff informs me that you're here to inquire about the possibility of being retained as an investigator.  I've been told that you're a real dick.  We don't often see female dicks here in Paradise, so I'm inclined to offer you the chance to check into a small but rather aggravating situation for me, even if you did break my favorite moose head.

Beads of perspiration formed on my forehead.  I'd completely forgotten about the moose head.


It seems that someone with an axe to grind has alerted the Dirty Language Division of the FCC to the fact that one of my Empresses has been using the F-word rather frequently on her radio program.  I can't risk having my FCC license pulled, so I'd like you to find out who the whistle-blower is, and why they decided to cause me this unnecessary headache.  Once you find the snitch, I'll take it from there.

Headmistress Ally, I'm not clear on something... you mentioned the F- word. What do......

You know!  The F-word! Fuck!  Do you live under a rock or something? Fuck fuck fucking fuckity fuck!  Is that clear enough for you?

Geez, why is she getting so irritated?

Oh, OK, I think I get the picture now.

After a few seconds, she continued...

You've obviously met Miss Christine, my Security Chief and Good Manners Coach, and I'm going to turn you over to her and have her take you upstairs to meet with Empress Constance, the radio host that I mentioned earlier.  She'll give you any information you might need to help you track down the offending party.

OK boys, I'm getting kinda peckish here and the lunch special down at the Paradise Shrimp Palace doesn't last all afternoon you know. Good luck, Friday, you'll be well compensated if your investigation is successful.

With that, her bearers picked her chair back up and headed for the front door. A couple of the bearers must've been new though, because they miscalculated a little on the height of the door opening, causing Ms Ally to bump her noodle on the door frame, knocking off her crown in the process.

Goddammit!  Pick that up you jerks!  Shit, why is it so hard to get good bearers these days?

Before I could even react to that, I was roughly snatched up by my shoulders and into a standing position by Miss Christine..

OK you dick, let's go see Empress Constance, and don't try any funny stuff in the elevator or I'm gonna have to hurt you.

Super!  I've got a goose egg on my bean and a pair of ugly purple stripes across the backs of my knees, and I hadn't even got out of the lobby yet.  Now I'm no weak sister, but I decided then and there that if I wanted to get paid, I'd better play along.  Next thing I knew,  Miss Christine was giving me the bums rush over to one of the other elevators and when the doors opened, she shoved me inside and stepped in behind me.  I sat on the floor to ease the throbbing in my knees and kept my hand on my blade during the uneasy trip up to the 13th floor and my meeting with Empress Constance....

(to be continued)

Girl Friday  



 

Sure Hope Business Picks Up Soon...

or this chickie dick is gonna be tossed out on the street on her little keister.  Yes, Girl Friday here.  Long time no see.

Chapter I

The only investigation I have open right now is the BillyBear disappearance, but the leads in that case dried up long ago, and the client who was looking for him lammed out of town in a big hurry a few months back.  So here I am with no visible means of support.  I'm talking lettuce, you lugs, so can the wisecracks about my bra and cheaters, OK?

So I've been out every day beating the bushes looking for clients who can actually pay me.  I get at least 20 or 30 calls a day from prospective clients who want my services.  None of them are willing to pay, and most of them want something that's not even connected to my PI business.  I've had to get restraining orders put on at least half of them, and the coppers are gettin' kinda tired of seeing my mug down at the station, always making them fill out complaint forms.  For some reason, I don't think they take me very seriously down there, and they'd rather not be bothered.

Some of my best investigative work so far has been related to the activities of  the Mistresses and clients over at the LDW Building, so I thought I'd wander over that way and snoop around a little.  Maybe there's some business to be had if I'm lucky.   It's been a few years since I was over in that part of town, but I figured that I could still find the place with no problems.  So I stuffed my roscoe in my bra, grabbed a couple of pairs of bracelets just in case, and locked up the office.  Once out on the street, I hiked up my skirt at the first cab that came by, and flashed my gams at the driver.  Just like in the old days, the cab screeches to a halt right in front of me.  Even I was impressed. This girl has still got it!  I guess all of the scars from being shot in my knees by my old boss Tracer have faded enough where they're not noticed.  I gotta say, with a decent pair of pantyhose, my getaway sticks are still looking pretty good, if I do say so myself.

This driver must not have been around back in the days when Tracer and I were regularly stiffing them with Monopoly money, and so he didn't threaten me or insist on getting paid up front.  When I told him to take me over to the LDW Building, he looked at me like I was some kinda rube and told me there was no place in Paradise going by that name.  I told him to head over to the address anyway.  Once we got in the general vicinity, I told him to stop and tossed a photocopied sawbuck at him.  One trick I've learned is to distract the driver by letting my skirt ride up and spreading my gams a little while I'm getting out so he doesn't notice that the spinach is bogus. Tracer could NEVER pull that one off.  I climbed out of the hack to have a look around.

I was standing in front of a big building that looked familiar, but it didn't have the same LDW Building sign on it that I remembered.  Instead, there was a big glowing neon sign spelling out EE in huge letters, with Enchantrix Empire, Ltd. in smaller letters underneath.  I seemed to recall that when I last visited LDW's chatroom, I'd overheard some people calling some of the Mistresses by the name Empress, so I figured that this just might be the same place.  It looked like they'd added quite a few new floors to the building, and since it still didn't look quite right, I walked across the street, stood back in the shadows and lit up a gasper so I could watch the entrance for awhile.

About a half a pack of smokes later and a few wads of chewed gum stuck to my heels, the traffic going in and out of the main door was pretty much as I remembered it. Lots of guys with big bulges in the front of their pants that didn't look like heaters, and plenty of tomatoes in frilly outfits with a little hint of 5 o'clock shadow under their makeup.  I noticed bulges on some of them too.  I also saw some real lookers going around to a separate door on the side of the building, and I assumed by the looks of them that they were the Mistresses and Empresses. I was pretty convinced by then that I'd come to the right place, so I stubbed out the fag on my sole, where it promptly got stuck in a smashed wad of gum.  It was stuck pretty good, and I hoped it would get scuffed off before I had to talk to anybody, because the filter was visibly sticking out on the side of the shoe.

I took a deep breath and walked across the street to the entrance, trying to scrape the gum off my shoe with every step.  As I approached the door, a security guard stepped out and I noticed him looking at me with one eyebrow raised.  

"You OK Miss?  That's a pretty bad limp.  Did you hurt your leg or something or are you just a spaz?"
   
 I was about to pull my roscoe and put an end to that conversation right then and there when I realized that I needed him to let me into the building. I was just glad that he wasn't the same goon I had to drill in both knees the last time I was at LDW to grill that Miss Tara dame.

 "No, my foot's just asleep, that's all.  I'm here to talk to somebody about lining up some investigative work.  Who do I need to speak with about that?". 

I flashed my ID card in his face to show him that I really am a dick, flicking the tip of his nose with it in the process. Gawd I really love when I do that!

He opened the door for me and showed me into a big ornate lobby with expensive leather chairs and couches.  

"Take a seat and wait here Miss, and I'll go get somebody for you."  

I watched him walk across the lobby to a huge carved wooden desk and start talking to a very pretty but powerfully built receptionist.  As they talked, they both kept sneaking furtive little glances over in my direction.  I started to get a little nervous when I saw her get on the horn with somebody, but figured I was "in for a penny, in for a pound", and so I smoothed my skirt over my pins and waited.

(to be continued)

Girl Friday  

  

Bitchass Worries Too Much Sometimes

I'm really thankful that I still have a job and a place to live, but seeing that I'm a totally insecure bitchass, I worry about it all going away, leaving me to live on only my unemployment income.  Even though I don't have any indication of that happening in the near future, I still like to plan ahead.  If worst comes to worst, and I ever need a place to live, I'm hoping that one of the wonderful and compassionate Mistresses here will be nice enough to take me in.  I'd only need a very small amount of closet space for my stuff..... and me.  ;)

Oh... did I tell you I worry too much?


little bitchass

Fiddlesticks

I'm new to this town, and on one of my "get acquainted" walks through the downtown area, I happened to notice a small shop with a sign in the window that said "Fiddlesticks - We Do Violins".  Under that was some artwork of a violin with a bandaid over it.

That got me to thinking.  I have an old violin that's been handed down through the family for at least 4 generations, and I've been wanting to learn how to play it. I was sure that it needed some adjustments as well as some new strings and some new horsehair on the bow, so the next weekend I brought it by the shop, took it out of it's case, and gingerly laid it on the counter.

The guy behind the counter was friendly enough, and he told me that yes, they would give it a good going over for me.  All they wanted was a $100 deposit.  I thought that was reasonable, and so I paid the guy and asked him how soon they might get around to it.

He said, "Oh, you can stay.  I'm not busy and I can take care of it right now for you."

I hadn't noticed while I was digging the $100 out of my purse that he had one hand behind his back, and that he had put on some safety goggles.

"Why do you need safety gog........."

Before I could react, he brings out a huge Gallagher-style wooden mallet from behind his back and swings it over his head and....

::SMASH!::

I'm still picking toothpicks out of my hair.....

CREEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAKKKKKK....

Boy do those hinges need some lube... I haven't opened this door in about 4 years, and barely was able to turn the key in the lock! A couple of days of soaking the lock in WD40 did the trick though. Kinda reminded me of what happened one time with my "other" lock after not opening it for a long time, but I digress....

 It's been many moons since I've written an entry into this blog, and I won't bother to go into the reasons for stopping. There were at least a handful, and any readers can probably piece things together if they want.

I was reminiscing a little a few weeks ago, and decided I'd like to come back in here and read some of the old stuff that I so enjoyed writing at the time. Finding and getting back into the blog turned into a bit of a challenge though, since I'd lost even the most important thing, the URL for the blog, and the exact syntax I'd used for the title. There have been a few too many crashed hard drives since I was last here, and I had also lost my log-in information. After a lot of trial and error, mostly error, I was finally able to get back in. Once back into the blog, I found that it had been linked to my old email account, which was deactivated by Yahoo a few years back. So I ended up having to create a new email account and link it up.

After that, I had to wade through an encyclopedia of unmoderated comments that had come in since I was last here. Almost all of them were spam, but there were a couple of nasty comments from a few people who were basically calling me an out of touch with reality asshole for how I was playing in my interactions with my LDW Mistress. Those all disappeared along with the spam with some deft use of the "delete" key! POOF! Fresh start!

Then, it was time to finally get down to the business of reading the old posts! I had a few in particular that I wanted to read, but after I had read them, I went back to the earliest posts and started to read them all. What a trip! It was almost like opening up a time capsule for me! A million memories started to come back to me that I'd forgotten over the past few years. There's a ton of entries related to my adventures as a pet of Ms Grace, and also the fiction stories that I'd written, some of which were written in collaboration with a really great writer, BillyBear, who's blog is one of the few still open and linked on my sidebar. Unfortunately, he stopped writing shortly before I did. Anybody who reads my blog should also read his, as a lot of our storylines are linked together.

 I don't consider myself to be a great bloggist, but I have to say that I really enjoyed reading the posts and also the comments. Some are really good, if I do say so myself!  I found myself laughing out loud at some passages, especially in BillyBear's stories, sometimes to the point where I'd finally stop laughing and then a second later I'd burst out laughing again. I remember laughing uncontrollably over those very same passages at the time they were written.  Those sure were some good times back then....

Anyway, this post is getting too long already, and there's still so much to say! That will have to come later. My main goal was to get the blog updated and available for reading, but I've also been getting the itch to do some writing again. I'm not sure how that will all work out, but this has been a good start. Hopefully, I'll see you all again soon!

In Memory Of A Friend

In case any of you readers don't know by now, Miss Tara from the LDW Group passed away on November 29, 2009. The details of her passing are on Little Giselle's blog, and I won't repeat them here. There is also a follow-up post by Giselle that really illustrates the type of person that Miss Tara was. I hope you will all go and read Giselle's posts.

When I heard the news, I was totally stunned. Stunned by the passing of a person whom I've never even met in person. People seem to come and go so quickly in Miss Tara's profession, but this was a real shock to me. This is at least the 4th time I've sat down to write something appropriate, but the words have just seemed to escape me. I can't let it go another day without writing something, and please bear with me while I try to express a few things.

Like it says in the title of this post, Miss Tara was a friend. She might've been a long distance friend, an online friend if you will, but a friend nonetheless. She even surprised me by sending me a few birthday cards in the mail, with really thoughtful and sweet messages handwritten on each. She was totally special, and I doubt that there ever was or ever will be another person quite like her. I'll never forget that unique voice, her unbridled laughter on her radio show when something struck her as funny. She was also a talented writer, and on more than one occasion she pointed me to some of her written work that I feel very privileged to have been allowed to read. I hope that Ms Ally can find a way to keep Miss Tara's blog open somewhere where people can read it and remember her. She deserves at least that much.

My first recollection of Miss Tara was from one of my early visits to the chatroom at LDW. I didn't know her from Adam, and only a few seconds after entering the chatroom, she says "Jem! You're so outrageous!" I wasn't sure what I did that was so outrageous, and was trying to figure it out, when she said it again. Then a light clicked on in my head and I realized that it was a quote fron the old Jem cartoon. It was also my first exposure to Miss Tara's vast storehouse of pop culture trivia.

We became close chatroom friends after that, and after quite a while I was even directed to call her on the phone by Ms Grace. I was pretty nervous on the call, and I think Miss Tara may have been a little nervous as well. I didn't want to mess up any mental image of me that she might've had, and maybe she felt a little of that too. We did have a great call, but most of my interaction with her was in the chatroom and blogs. That's where I realized what a great roleplayer she was.

Miss Tara had a radio show for a while, and whenever I was able to get home from work early enough, I tried to make it into chat. She always gave me a great big welcome when I would come into the room, and we would always end up dancing to The Cootie Song, which she'd play especially for me. I'd had to change my avatar because my old one wasn't available on the new chat client, and the one I picked happened to look like an alien bug to Miss Tara. So from then on, I was Jembug or Buglet, depending on her mood that day. One of her favorite phrases was "Don't come near me with those cuh-reepie feelers!" I sooooo loved hearing her laugh during those radio shows.

Even without radio, we used to have hilarious nights in the chatroom whenever Miss Tara was there. A lot of the times that Billybear and I were in there, we would try and liven it up (disrupt?) to the point where it teetered on the brink of anarchy. I'll always remember those nights, which would invariably result in Billybear and/or me being spanked by Miss Tara (as only Miss Tara could) and sent to stand with our noses against the wall until we were allowed to come back. It didn't take much instigation by Ace or Lucky or Giselle to get us spanked either.

She had a wonderful knack for balancing on the fine line of being professional and not offending the other clients, while at the same time jumping right into whatever insanity we had brewed up that night. A great example of that would be her participation in the first chatroom appearance of Tracer Bullet Billy and Girl Friday. That night bordered on mayhem, but was the most hilarious thing I've ever seen or been a part of in the chatroom. I often wonder what a first time visitor to the chatroom might've thought if he showed up in the middle of one of those.

She was an avid reader of our blogs, and she jumped wholeheartedly into whatever crazy storylines we would write her into. She loved the haiku and whatever else we did. Her comments were a source of validation for my writing, because I respected her writing skills so much. If you haven't yet, I invite you to read back through the archives of this blog and Billybear's blog, especially under the Tracer Bullet Billy labels, and see what I'm talking about. Don't forget to read her comments! I was happy that Miss Tara agreed to guest write on one of the last Girl Friday posts before she passed as well. It was the first time I had tried it and she eagerly participated. I emailed Miss Tara with a list of questions for her interview with Girl Friday, and I cut and pasted her responses into the story. It worked out really well, and I'm happy now that I have Miss Tara in her own words as a part of my story. Except for one comment on a later post, that was the last time Miss Tara was able to participate. I'm not sure if I'll continue with those storylines or not, because since Billybear moved on, Miss Tara had been the only other real inspiration I had for writing them. I may possibly continue them as a tribute in the future, but I will definitely be retiring the Zorak character and any references to my bugness in the chatroom.

I guess I've said most of what I wanted to say, but I'm sure that in the future I'll wish I said more. I didn't want this post to depress anyone, rather I wanted it to be a celebration of Miss Tara's uniqueness. I really wish she was still here, but I hope that where she is now, she's able to sit out in that chaise lounge and read in the sun, but she'll never get another sunburn.

Miss Tara, you were a wonderful friend and I can only look forward to seeing you on the other side someday. If there's anything that I can feel good about, it's that I was somehow able to keep you laughing either in the chatroom or in the blogs. I hope to hear that laughter again someday! You are sorely missed.

And so for one last time....

your buglet..... ::touches you with my cuh-reepie feelers::

Now She Tells Me

Boy am I steamed. How steamed am I? I'm so steamed I'm ready to pump some lead at somebody.

If you've been following this mess of a missing persons case that I'm working on, you know about the close call I had over on Giantess Island the other day. That's when I almost became a spot in the sand when Big Gretchen decided to play toss the boulder with me.

Well, by pure luck, I was able to lam out of there just in time, with the help of my client who just happened to be in the neighborhood in his chopper. Things got a little hairy there for awhile, but hey, that's the way it is in the investigation business.

But what really got me all steamed up was something I read after I got safely back to the office. My so-called pal, Little Bitchass, came across a blog post, and if she had just taken a few seconds to clue me in on it, I wouldn't have even gone to Giantess Island and risked my life in the first place. The blog post I'm talking about was in BillyBear's blog. Yes, the same guy I've been running around looking for for the past couple of months. Did she tell me though? No. She was too busy skating around on a lamebrained North Pole cruise with some skid rogue by the name of Nanook. You think she could be bothered to tell her best friend something that could possibly have saved that same best friend the 6 years of life that got scared off of me on that island? No... of course not. When she finally got around to telling me about it yesterday, I was about ready to show her what a 45 slug in each kneecap feels like.

I guess I just needed to blow off some steam there. I feel a little better now, but this new development in BillyBear's blog has me kind of bamboozled. I can't make much sense out of it. The whole TV thing is as clear as mud. How can that even work? How did he get a color test pattern on that old black and white TV? Any shamus worth his salt knows that the test pattern should have an Indian head on it. And what was all that mumbo-jumbo he was spouting? I read through his spiel a couple of times, and I'm more confused than ever. I'll keep at it though. A good dick never goes soft on a case, and I'm not going to be the first.

I'll keep you all informed as I try to get this whole thing unraveled. Maybe another transmission will come through in the meantime that'll help clear things up. Now where did I leave that bottle?

Girl Friday

Back In Business

Hi. Girl Friday here. Just got my internet connection back. I'd been without it since that client who was paying me to find BillyBear skipped town and my weekly checks stopped coming in. I'd been holed up in the office here for weeks. I was afraid if I left, the landlord was going to padlock the door and keep all my stuff. If you think I'm gonna risk losing 31 pairs of handcuffs, you're jingle-brained.

Well, the client walks in out of the blue last week and dumps a suitcase full of C-notes on my desk. He said he had to dust out for a few months and lay low. Something about a couple of goons tailing him to try and put the grab on some recipe of his. He's got the recipe in a safe place now, so I'm back in business. First thing I did was to buy some new rags. Something classy to go with this hat.

So I got out the file on BillyBear, blew the dust off of it, and planned my next move. Here's what happened.

When I last saw Miss Tara, she fingered that big dame Giantess Gretchen as somebody who might know something about BillyBear's whereabouts. I had to really think long and hard about heading out to that island she lives on, because I remembered that time Little Bitchass got conned into flying out there and got herself into a jam with Big Gretchen. Well I'm no rube, and I decided then and there that if I was going out to that island, I wasn't gonna be a patsy and fly. I was smart. I decided I'd take a sea cruise.

I showed up on the dock at dawn the next morning. I found out that the cruise ship was really a rusty old tramp steamer. And no wisecracks about the tramp thing or I'll start squirting lead. As I started up the gangplank, I caught my heel in a knothole and dropped my suitcase into the water. I watched as it sank like a stone. The ship was ready to sail and I didn't have time to go back to the office and pack more clothes, so I had to make do with only what I had in my purse. Luckily I still had my roscoe tucked away between my cheaters and a blade on my thigh under a garter.

We pulled away from the dock and set a course for Giantess Island. Captain Morgan seemed confident that we'd find the island with no problem, and he showed me a well worn map showing it's location. The trip was pretty uneventful, but the crew made me nervous, and I kept my hand on my knife for most of the trip. Every time I'd walk past a couple of them, they'd look at my gams and rub their whiskers and mutter stuff that I couldn't quite hear to each other. I don't know what kind of movies these guys grew up watching, but they all had scary sounding names like Barnacle Bob, and Cutthroat Charlie. I was sure glad when the fog lifted one morning, and there, off our starboard bow, lay the unmistakable shape of Giantess Island. OK, I confess I had never seen Giantess Island before, and wouldn't know the shape of it if it bit me in the ass, but the big sign with blinking lights that said "Welcome To Giantess Island" pretty much convinced me that we had arrived.

I asked First Mate Black Dog how soon he could have the dingy lowered so I could go ashore and have a look around. Something I said must've struck him as pretty funny, because he started to laugh really hard. So hard in fact that he started coughing up some kind of brown fluid and making odd wheezing sounds. I was distracted by his display and never heard two of the crew come up behind me until I felt them giving me the bums rush and tossing me over the side. As I surfaced and gulped in a lungful of air, I remembered Bitchass's tale of mutant sharks. Terrified, I swam for shore with the sounds of insane laughter and wheezing echoing across the water.

I finally reached the beach and turned to watch the ship steaming away from the island. I wasn't too worried, because I figured that they just wanted to be a safe distance away in case the Giantess started to toss boulders in their direction, but at the same time, I began to think that I had probably bought a round trip ticket for nothing. I busied myself with wringing out my clothes, and had just finished when I heard a noise behind me and the next thing I knew, out went the lights.

As I slowly came to my senses, I became aware of a familiar smell. Tracer had shown me a group of dope addicts smoking Jujus once, and the smell was unmistakable. When my vision began to clear up, I realized that I was lying inside of a bamboo cage, and a guy was sitting just outside in a cloud of marijuana smoke. I instantly snapped to full alertness and realized that this was the guy who Bitchass wrote about... Giantess Gretchen's Toadie.... the infamous Pothead! He never made a sound. His eyes were half closed, but I could see his pupils moving and I knew that he was watching me. I did the best thing I could think of, and narrowed my eyes and gazed back at him. This eventually made him uncomfortable and he got up and silently shuffled off into the jungle overgrowth, leaving me alone. I took stock of my situation, and it didn't look good. The cage was sturdily built and I didn't see any way to open it. A thought came to me and I jammed my hand into my bra... good.... I still had my roscoe. Gretchen's toadie must've been too high to remember to frisk me.

I felt along my thigh and recognized the bulge of my knife. I slipped it out from under my garter and began to intently saw away at one of the pieces of bamboo. I never finished. A booming voice rang out from above, and when I looked up from my escape attempt, I saw a huge, shapely ankle in a red, strappy sandal just outside the cage. I looked to the other side of the cage and saw an almost identical ankle and sandal. Giantess Gretchen! The next thing I knew, the cage was lifted up into the air until it was level with a beautiful face framed by long, blonde hair. She looked at me quizzically, as if she had been expecting to see somebody else.

"Well little person, I've never seen you around here before. What brings you to my island and why should I not toss you to the sharks?"

'Your Majesty, my name is Girl Friday. I'm a private investigator, and I was hoping you might be able to help me locate somebody."

She raised one beautifully shaped eyebrow and hissed,

"Who sent you here?"

"Well, Your Hugeness, I was given your name by Miss Tara over at the LDW Building. She said she knew you and that you might know what happened to BillyBear."

"Ahhh yes.... Tara.... I know her well.... world renowned in the art of spanking... she has sent me many a yummy snack. What can you do for me in return for not tenderizing you on the hamster wheel and making a tasty lunch out of you?"

At that, I became alarmed and went into survival mode... my mind went blank and all I could think of was Bitchass...

"Your Giantessness, I know that you enjoy a glass of fresh pineapple juice every few hours, and I happen to know somebody who is very good at juicing giant pineapples. As a matter of fact, you used to have her as your personal pineapple juicer some time ago until she escaped the island."

The Giantess appeared a bit irritated when I brought up the fact that Bitchass had escaped, and her eyes narrowed and she started squeezing the cage tighter and tighter until the bamboo began to make cracking noises.

"Oh yes... that one... she did squeeze a mean pineapple... If you can get her back here for me, I'll tell you what I know about where BillyBear went. And whyever would you want to know that? He's a legendary pervert."

I felt bad about dropping dime on one of my best friends, but I needed to find out where BillyBear went for my client, because if I didn't, he might try to get that suitcase full of lettuce back, and I already spent a couple of large ones for some new office furniture. Besides, I knew that Bitchass was tough, and that she'd be able to get herself out of any jam she got into with Big Gretchen... After all, she did it before.

"OK Your Largeness, I'll deliver Little Bitchass to you. Now, what can you tell me about BillyBear?"

"If I tell you, you'd better come though for me on Pineapple Girl or I'll come looking for you and stomp you into a pancake."

"Yes, I understand."

"OK then, it's a deal. Now that that's done, I'll tell you what I know. BillyBear was here on the island over a year ago. He made a great airplane. He had a very aerodynamic shape and I was able to toss him way out beyond the shark reef. I haven't seen him or heard from him since."

"But Miss Gretchen, that doesn't help me. You said you'd tell me where he was."

"I said nothing of the sort. I told you I'd tell you what I knew. That's all I know. A deal is a deal. Now pay up!"

"But Your Hugeness, I can't deliver Bitchass to you if I don't find out where BillyBear is. The deal is off."

This seemed to enrage Big Gretchen, and she cracked open the bamboo and yanked me out of the cage and jammed me in between her giant bazoombas.

"Let's see how you like the hamster wheel, my little midday snack..."

As she stomped towards a fenced-in compound, I saw what looked to be a giant, bamboo hamster wheel with a candle under it, and recognized it from Bitchass's account of her visit to the island. Just as we were approaching the wheel, Big Gretchen tripped over Pothead, who had conveniently passed out on the ground right in front of her. She pitched forward and landed with a thud, the impact popping me out from between her mammoth mammaries and shooting me halfways to the beach. Before she could react, I was up and running for my life. As I struggled in the deep sand in my heels, I heard Giantess Gretchen's booming voice, and large boulders started landing on either side of me. I looked back and saw her striding towards me, eating up the distance between us with alarming speed.

Just as I was about to give up hope, I noticed a second deafening sound. The sand around me was blowing all around, and a rope ladder dropped from the sky right beside me. With nothing left but my survival instinct, I reached for the ladder and held it in a deathgrip and was lifted up and away from the hail of boulders. I slowly and carefully climbed the ladder and was pulled inside of the helicopter by a pair of arms. I looked up and saw.... my client?

"Well that wasn't very smart, Friday. I can't get any return on my investment if you go and get turned into lunch, now can I?"

I wanted to paste him in the kisser for that crack, but then I remembered that I was a professional, and that he was a client. It helped to remember that suitcase full of dough too. I just smiled weakly and sagged back into the seat and drifted off to sleep.

So that's how it happened. I guess this latest outing didn't turn out any better than the ones before. I'm still no closer to finding BillyBear than I was when I started. This sure is a tough nut to crack. But don't worry, I'll find him...

Girl Friday


::Friday pours a double shot of Old Bushmills, lights up a gasper, kicks off her shoes and puts her feet up on the desk, and gets back to studying the BillyBear case file.::

This About Says It All...

Rachel posted this today in the Houston TG group, and I hope she doesn't mind that I'm reprinting it. Being that I'm a transplant to the Great State of Texas myself, this little story really made me chuckle. OK, maybe I even guffawed just a little!

l.b.a.


Dear Diary,

Just moved to Texas! Now this is a state that knows how to live!! Beautiful sunny days and warm balmy evenings. It is beautiful. I've finally found my home. I love it here.

June 14th: Really heating up. Got to 100 today. Not a problem. Live in an air-conditioned home, drive an air-conditioned car. What a pleasure to see the sun everyday like this. I'm turning into a sun worshipper.

June 30th: Had the backyard landscaped with western plants today. Lots of cactus and rocks. What a breeze to maintain. No more mowing the lawn for me. Another scorcher today, but I love it here.

July 10th: The temperature hasn't been below 100 all week. How do people get used to this kind of heat? At least, it's kind of windy though. But getting used to the heat is taking longer than I expected.

July 15th: Fell asleep by the community pool. Got 3rd degree burns over 60% of my body. Missed 3 days of work. What a dumb thing to do. I learned my lesson though. Got to respect the ol' sun in a climate like this.

July 20th: I missed Lomita (my cat) sneaking into the car when I left this morning. By the time I got to the hot car at noon, Lomita had died and swollen up to the size of a shopping bag, then popped like a water balloon. The car now smells like Kibbles and Sh**. I learned my lesson though. No more pets in this heat. Good ol' Mr. Sun strikes again.

July 25th: The wind sucks. It feels like a giant freaking blow dryer!! And it's hot as hell. The home air-conditioner is on the fritz and the AC repairman charged $200 just to drive by and tell me he needed to order parts.

July 30th: Been sleeping outside on the patio for 3 nights now, $225,000 house and I can't even go inside. Lomita is the lucky one. Why did I ever come here?

Aug. 4th: Its 115 degrees. Finally got the air-conditioner fixed today. It cost $500 and gets the temperature down to 85. I hate this stupid state.

Aug. 8th: If another wisenheimer cracks, 'Hot enough for you today?' I'm going to strangle him. Dang heat. By the time I get to work, the radiator is boiling over, my clothes are soaking wet, and I smell like baked cat!!

Aug. 9th: Tried to run some errands after work. Wore shorts, and when I sat on the seats in the car, I thought my butt was on fire. My skin melted to the seat. I lost 2 layers of flesh and all the hair on the back of my legs and butt . . . Now my car smells like burnt hair, fried butt, and baked cat.

Aug 10th: The weather report might as well be a dang recording. Hot and sunny. Hot and sunny. Hot and sunny. It's been too hot to do anything for 2 dang months and the weatherman says it might really warm up next week. Doesn't it ever rain in this state? Water rationing will be next, so my $1700 worth of cactus will just dry up and blow over. Even the cactus can't live in this heat.

Aug. 14th: Welcome to HELL! Temperature got to 115 today. Cactus are dead. Forgot to crack the window and blew the damn windshield out of the car. The installer came to fix it and guess what he asked me??? "Hot enough for you today?" My sister had to spend $1,500 to bail me out of jail. Freaking Texas. What kind of a sick demented idiot would want to live here?? Will write later to let you know how the trial goes.

Be Afraid... Be Very Afraid...

I just wanted to make a little public service announcement here. Hopefully this will prevent what happened to me from happening to all of you as well.

I try to catch a few minutes of The Weather Channel in the mornings before I head off to work, and last week I tuned in just in time to see the new program called "Wake Up With Al". With "Al" being Al Roker, the weatherman on The Today Show. Now, I've never been a big fan of Al's humor, but sometimes I have to admit, he amuses me with his silliness. And I totally respect the shit outta the guy for the hard time he gave Speidi in that famous interview. I'm going to digress here for just a second to editorialize that I absolutely hate how the Today Show and other morning "news" shows have abandoned hard news reporting and have largely resorted to "fluff programming" and use a good portion of precious airtime to promote other upcoming NBC programming. If I want to see fluff, I'll watch primetime network TV. At least whatever primetime is left after all the stupid reality shows have taken up all the best timeslots. That being said, in this day and age, it's not a bad idea to have a laugh now and then, even though I have absolutely no sense of humor that you know of. Enter Al.

So, I was watching Al on his first day on the Weather Channel, and they have this alarm clock giveaway going on. I decided that hey, I need a new alarm clock, so I found an old picture I had of some snow in Texas, and sent it in. Now, I thought that a clock was gonna be given away every week, and so I was surprised to see a FedEx Special Delivery at my front door that very afternoon. Apparently they liked the picture. I guess it never dawned on them that this is July, and a July snowstorm in Texas is a pretty rare occurrence. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I unpacked the clock and set it up on my nightstand. This was where it all started to go bad.

It was still pretty dark the next morning when the alarm clock woke me up. It was a pleasant sound, not the bone jarring sound that I was expecting. Actually, you'd think that is a good thing, but not for me. I NEED the bone jarring sound to wake me up. Anyway, I punched the snooze button and decided to lie there for a few minutes to see how long it let me snooze before it went off again. I was drifting in that half-asleep stage when I became aware of this strange sound. It sounded sorta like....

SNORING???

I rolled over onto my side and saw a bulky shape on the other side of the bed. It was too big to be wadded up blankets. The snoring sound appeared to be coming from under the blanket, and being half asleep, I did something that I wouldn't have done if I was wide awake. I pulled the blanket back and...

AL!!! Freaking Al Roker is snoring away in my freaking bed!

My screaming woke him up, and he jumped up and out of the bed. In the dim light, I saw that Al sleeps in the nude just like I do, and when he saw me, we BOTH started screaming. I grabbed the closest thing I could find, which was a ballet boot, and whacked him over the head with it. That seemed to surprise him, and while he was gathering his thoughts and fumbling for his glasses, I bolted for the bathroom and locked myself in.

"Your name is Little Bitchass, right? You were the winner of the alarm clock. I'm sorry if I startled you, but this is how the deal works. We don't give a new clock away every week, the winner gets the clock for a week and then it goes to the next winner. When you set the clock, you get to wake up with me for a whole week."

He went on to explain that the clock was a sophisticated transceiver, which teleports him to the alarm clock's location. Once I had set it, it locked in to my location, and Voila! You have Al the next morning.

"But I don't want to wake up with you in my bed! Go away! One attention whore in this house is enough!"

"But the week isn't up yet..."

"I don't care! Get your naked ass out of my house and take that stupid clock with you!"

"But you agreed to the conditions by sending in the weather picture."

"I've got a ballet boot in here, and you'd better be gone when I open this door. I'm gonna count to 10."

"I haven't brushed my teeth yet. I can't interview you without brushing my teeth first."

"You're not fucking interviewing me! I'm serious, get the fuck out of my bedroom!"

I started to count, and as I did, I heard noises of things being moved around, which I figured was the sound of him putting his clothes on and unplugging the clock so he could leave. Finally, I heard a door slam and it got quiet. I waited a few minutes and cautiously opened the door and stuck my head out. Al was gone. I looked over towards the nightstand, and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that the alarm clock was gone too.

I realized that I needed to get dressed, so I went to the closet to get something to wear. I opened the closet door.

"FUCKING AL! You bastard!"

There I was, still naked, and Al is standing inside the closet shoving a microphone in my face! He's got some guy crammed in behind him with a video camera with lights on it. He starts filming me and the lights are super bright and blinding me. I screamed and ran for the bathroom again, this time grabbing my antique samurai sword on the way. Al and the camera guy followed me to the door but I was able to slam it and get it locked.

"Al, I'm serious as a heart attack, you'd better get the fuck out of my house. I'm not doing this for a whole week!"

I heard Al chuckling softly outside the door, and then I started hearing the sounds of drawers opening and closing and clothes hangers being moved around.

"Al, you perve! Get the hell out of my underwear drawer! I swear to God, if you don't get the fuck out, there's gonna be hell to pay! Don't make me come out there!"

The noises outside the bathroom continued for what seemed like hours. Eventually they stopped. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and so I gathered up my courage, threw the door open, and leaped out into the bedroom. I didn't see anybody around and I was starting to calm down when I saw the camera guys shoes sticking out below the window curtains.

Something inside of me snapped, and I screamed and went for the camera guy. One swipe of the sword brought down the curtain, and the second swipe sent his head rolling across the room. I started to laugh like a maniac and went looking for Al."

"Oh Alllllll.... come out come out wherever you are...."

Al was either gone or he had found a really good hiding place. I went though the whole house looking for him, but no luck. I finally gave up and figured that he had split. I went back to my bedroom and that's when I noticed the alarm clock and the soles of his feet sticking out from under my bed.

"AAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"

I let out the most blood curdling scream that you could imagine, and reached down and grabbed his ankle. With superhuman strength, I yanked him out from under the bed.

"Say your prayers, AL... Your ass is my meat!"

Before he could even make a move, I stabbed him in both ass cheeks with the sword, and then started to dance around him, swinging the sword every whichway, while yelling and screaming at the top of my lungs. I think Al got the picture at this point, and made a beeline for the front door. As he was just clearing the doorway, I threw a 100mph alarm clock that bounced off of the back of his head and knocked him for a loop. He did a perfect forward flip, picked up the alarm clock, and hit the ground running, all in one motion. You'd be surprised at how agile the guy is since he lost all that weight. He ran down the street and that was the last that I saw of him.

Until the next morning. He was back doing his show like nothing had happened.

I guess the moral of my story is to be very careful. Read all of the fine print before you agree to any contracts, even if they are with a jolly TV weatherman. If a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

Until next time,

little bitchass

Incognito At The LDW Club

Hi everybody. It's me again. Girl Friday. Sorry I'm late. I just got back to the office. I had to get my mom to bail me out of the slammer. Yep, the bulls collared me for something that happened on my factfinding mission over at the LDW Club. I'll explain later, but at least I feel a little better about the whole experience because I was able to palm the set of bracelets they used on me and get them into my purse without them noticing. A good dick can never have too many handcuffs.

Back to business. The LDW Club. I went there to try and get some leads for the investigation I'm working on. You know the kinda joint I'm talking about. Smoke filled bar with a private chatroom in the back behind the secret door type of place. I was already in a foul mood when I got there. I had to hike my skirt up for 3 taxis before one would stop. I must be slipping. Maybe I need to start wearing some darker nylons to hide the scars on my knees better. To make matters worse, the cabbie all of a sudden remembered a previous trip Tracer and I made in his cab. That's the time Tracer stiffed him for the fare, and so he red-lighted me out of his hack on my keister. I had to hoof it the last 6 blocks to the club.

I arrived at the club, and there was some big dumb palooka blocking the door. Probably the bouncer from the looks of him. I had just started to walk past him when he stopped me by grabbing my boobs with both hands. At least this time my cheaters didn't pop out because I finally remembered to sew the velcro strips onto them. They stayed stuck in my bra pretty good. I slapped the goon across the kisser as hard as I could. Well, he just laughed like some kind of goofball and said, "I guess you're OK Miss", and stepped out of the way and let me pass. I composed myself and went inside to see if I could find that Miss Tara dame.

Once inside, I had to let my eyes get used to the smoky dimness before I could give the place a good look-see. There was loud music playing on a jukebox in the corner. The joint had been remodeled since the last time Tracer and I were there, and nothing looked familiar. As I scanned the room, I saw a bunch of people up at the bar, some sitting, some standing. I noticed that just about every guy had his hand in his pants, and the girls all seemed to be rubbing up against the guys. My keen powers of observation kicked in and I noticed that most of the girls looked like they could've used a shave, but I figured that it was just the dim lighting playing tricks with my eyes. I also noticed that a lot of the girls had their hands up their own dresses too.

Just as the real explanation hit me, I spied a movement at the back of the room. I just happened to be looking in the right direction when one of the customers pulled an antler on the stuffed moosehead, and a big hunk of wall slid open and he walked through. While the panel was open, I caught sight of some people dancing and sitting around in the next room. I made a beeline for the door, but it slid closed just before I got to it.

I yanked on the moose's antler, but it was the wrong one, and it broke off with a loud snap. Luckily the music was loud, and nobody seemed to notice what happened. I had to think quickly. Like lightning, I took the gum out of my mouth and stuck the antler back on the moosehead, but it only held for about 2 seconds before it fell off again. Trying to look as innocent as possible, I nudged it behind a big potted plant with my foot. Then I pulled down on the other antler. The panel slid open and I slipped through the opening and into the chatroom.

I lit a gasper and looked around. The chatroom wasn't smoky like the room with the bar had been, and it was lit by some pink lamps and furnished with couches and chairs scattered all over the place. Thinking that this was probably one of those new non-smoking chatrooms, I quickly stubbed out the butt on my shoe. It's a good thing smokes are cheap.

There was a dancefloor in the center of the room, and a small stage against the opposite wall. I headed for a vacant seat in the darkest corner of the room, where I could sit virtually unseen while I got a slant on the situation. There was some chippy doing a standup comedy routine on the stage, making jokes about finally having a chance to do some makeover or something. Funny, but she seemed to have a little 5 o'clock shadow too.

There were other people sitting around on the couches, with a few snappily dressed ladies mixed in that I knew to be Mistresses. Tracer and I had met a few of them on our earlier visits. That Miss Tara dame was a Mistress too, but she wasn't anywhere to be seen.

I tried to tune in on some of the background conversation around me, and whenever I was able to pick up a few words here and a few sentences there, it was always something about somebody only having a couple of inches or less of something. I couldn't get all of it, but while I was trying to make sense of what they were saying, a door over by the stage swung open, and Miss Tara stepped into the room.

In the pink light, I could see that she was wearing a pair of snug fitting leather pants that really showed off her shape, with a soft pastel blouse and a pair of black boots with stiletto heels. I started to lose my concentration for a second, but quickly snapped back to the job at hand. I was working for a client, and needed to have all of my wits about me. I decided to discretely approach her.

I had worn a pair of 5 inch heels for the occasion, so I could fit in with the rest of the crowd, and when I stood up I kinda lost my balance a little and knocked over the big floorlamp that was next to me. It fell over, hitting the floor with a loud crash and sparks flew everywhere. So much for being discrete. I nonchalantly made my way over to Miss Tara trying to act like nothing had happened.

"Hello Miss Tara, it's been a long time since we've actually chatted in the flesh. I must say you're looking very well. How have you been? I was hoping you might be able to help me with my latest investigation into BillyBear's disappearance. Do you think you could? You remember who I'm talking about, right? And where did you buy those amazing boots? If I had a pair of those, I'd be able to flag down a taxi in one try!"

A voice in my head chimed in, "Calm down, Friday.... take a breath... relax... remember what they taught you in PI school... "Don't ask all of your questions at once... wait until she answers the first one, you sap!"

::Deep breath::

::Deep breath::

I was snapped out of my deep breathing exercise by the sound of Miss Tara's sultry voice.

"Hello Friday. It's good to see you again. My condolences on your dead boss. He was a real dick you know. Now, what is it that you'd like to know?"

"Well, for starters, I know that BillyBear had a lot of aliases. Are you familiar with any of those? It would be helpful for me to know them all."

"Hmm Billy's alias. There are so many! The fuzzball is such a warped.. I mean, multifaceted personality, he NEEDS those names. Lets see, BillyPrincess, BillyProphet, MostHolyBilly, the Perverted Elf, the Legendary Pervert, the Legendary Dom aka MasterBilly, BillyHulk, Angsty Teenaged Goth Billy, wolverBilly (shing shing) Billybunny and many more. Whew!"

"You mentioned that one of his aliases was 'The Perverted Elf". Was he actually a pervert?"

"As for Billy being a perverted Elf, not only was he a pervert, he was a Legendary Pervert. Why, Billy held the Order of the MELON! He admitted to Canine Curiousity, after being molested by a doggie while Thorazined in the bushes, not to mention Princess's dog while Billy hid in her bed, pretending to be a stuffed animal. Hell, he has an insatiable WOOKIE! I can state that Billy, as proven by his own blog, is an incredible pervert."

"You mean Princess' dog did BillyBear too? With the doggie strap-on? Wait til I tell Bitchass about this one!" ::stifles a giggle::

"OK, where was I? Oh... ummm... yes... BillyBear used to do some strange experiments in that big lab over by the river. You can see it from the upper windows of the LDW Club. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary over that way?"

"Out of the ordinary? At the Not so Secret Lab? Well, let's see, there was the bombing and the rebuilding based on those extort... I mean, donated funds from that nice Cookie Maven, Mr. Ace. There were always rumors of kitten abuse and robots and... well, anything. But lately, there have been people all over the place at night. They claim to see lights in the skies, like, UFOs or something, and to tell the truth, I don't think they all can be crackpots. I haven't seen the lights myself, but I'm not some wookie worshipping geek, either."

I began to panic as I frantically searched my near term memory to see if I might've pulled a Tracer and accidently called her a wookie worshipping geek, I didn't recall doing it, but if I did, I'd find out soon enough.

"I certainly didn't mean to imply that you worshipped wookies, but to be fair, it was proven in the last census that almost 90% of the people here in Paradise are crackpots. ::Nervous glance at the door:: But nonetheless, this thing about the lights in the sky could be important. I'll keep an eye peeled for any hinky activity over there."

Regaining my composure, I pressed on...

"I understand that BillyBear was working on something in the lab called a Transmorgifier, and that those experiments had some unpredictable results. Do you think that machine could be linked to those lights or maybe even to his disappearance?"

"Oh lawsie, the Transmorgifier! Do you know, that is how he BECAME BillyBear? He was feeling sort of weak, if I recall, much put upon, and wanted to feel all big and tough. So, he pictured a big strong Grizzly, the sort of sharp toothed, killer clawed brute that every chat denizen would fear and perhaps he'd impress his fair Princess. Instead...he turned into a four foot tall festively plump little blue waddling Care Bear. And, while he wasn't fearsome, he was totally adorable. Ms Grace would snuggle him on her lap and everything. I think the cuteness ate away at him until he started carrying Implements of Incredible Ingenuity. That led to shaving and spankings and the Tazer of Terrible Tenderness. But I digress...the Transmorgifier was never anything but trouble. All he ever used it for was to cause trouble, further his own aims and do wierd experimental shit. One of his personalities is a furry blue Mad Scientist, I swear!"

"Wierd experiments huh? Hmmmmm... I wonder... ::scribbles feverishly in my notebook:: Earlier you mentioned kitten abuse. It's a known fact that BillyBear had a little kitten named Mittens that used to accompany him everywhere. Do you have any knowledge of the whereabouts of said kitten?"

"Don't get me started on Mittens. I tried to help that poor little thing many times. Billy was never quite right, you understand. He always had imaginary animals to abuse, I remember poor Paulie the platypus, the things that Billybear did to him as a child, even before that crushing Incident at DisneyWorld...never heard from Paulie again after that, just as well that Billy had been Put Someplace. But then, as an adult, there was mittens who suffered enormously and imaginarily at his paws. I stole her several times, pampered and loved her, but in a very clever disguise as BillyPotter, the boy who jizzed, that dratted bear realized that even a mistress couldn't separate him from his own imaginary cat. There's no way he thought of that himself. When I find out who led BillyPotter onto THAT thought, I'll be administering some serious spankweed. Anywho, it did come in handy when I needed inside information from the Lab. Mittens was always willing to do a pal a favor, and I made sure there was fresh tuna or salmon in the bargain. If ol Blue greedy guts didn't find it and hog it up first. Plus, Mittens could communicate with Robo Mittens, the Mad Scientist's faithful mechanical Igor, and sometimes we could head off the most lame brained schemes. Not often. Okay, never. But at least we knew they were going to happen. What was sweet is the way Mittens bonded with that nice bimbo boobed Jemmie's bird, Vash the Destroyer. Even Billybear kept a picture of them on his blog. I worry about poor little Mittens..."

"I have it on good authority that you've conversed with Billybear on a fairly regular basis, and that you actually were shot by him on one or more occasions. How did you feel about that?"

"I have actually spent a lot of time talking with Billybear, not as much time as I would have liked, but a lot. And as much as I give him a hard time, I like the perverted fuzzball. He's smart, he's funny, he can be very sweet and I miss him. I realized the other night of whom he reminds me, I've wondered this a lot. If you read Robert Heinlein, he narrates in first person in several of his books. The lead character is usually confident, self deprecating, smart and funny. Billy reminds of Zeb from Number of the Beast and Richard from The Cat that Walks through Walls, in some ways. But then, there is the instigator. The knee gnawing, mittens kicking MISS TARA SHOOTING side of the Billy! There have been times when the festively plump schemer has been more annoying than a fat blue mosquito in my ear! The time he turned himself into that little green fucker BillyHulk and wrecked everything in sight! When he was a teenaged angsty Goth Wolverbilly with shing shing claws and a whiny attitude, he got Ms Grace and I high and GLUED my hands to my favourite jeans! Do you know how many times I had to listen to the chicken dance? Where IS that little BillyBastard? I'll wring his non existent... that's right, and lately he's been telling everyone that I'm a vampire. Because I'm naturally pale and a night owl... he slandered me over and over in that tabloid rag of his, The Occasional Assassin until I brought in a little serious legal power known as Wolfram and Hart! That will fix him! Unless of course, I shave his ass and beat his butt Baboon red first!"

"Oh yes... Wolfram and Hart... My mom told me about them. Famous songwriting team from way back in the sixties. Wonder how long ago they went legit? They must be some pretty old geezers by now. Err... ummm.. back to business... In your conversations with BillyBear, did he ever mention any places that he liked to visit? You know, like a favorite vacation spot or something?"

"You know, Billy does travel a bit. He talks about going to the North Pole to free his enslaved people, backs bent in labor, working night and day for the Claus. The Perverted Elf feels their pain, but then he would get distracted by pixies or panties or a call to his Princess, or a nap, or a snack, or kicking mittens, or maybe a vision or a shiny penny lying on the sidewalk. You know, he's busy. He tends to like the tropics, and he has friends on Giantess Island, you know. If he could get past the mutant sharks, he's got Pothead, who is a favourite of Giantess Gretchen and is allowed to grow her mutant weed. Pothead would know all the good hiding places if Billy had to lay low from the Man, or from Giantess Gretchen if he pissed her off again. She tends to blow hot and cold when it comes to Billybear. He once convinced her that your nice galpal Jem was evil! Poor Jem suffered for Billy's lies that day, but I think GG eventually figured it out and stomped Billy into a fur rug. You might want to head out there, Giantess Island would be a great place for one more freaky perv to escape."

"Hmmmmmm.... Giantess Gretchen you say? ::sweat beads up on my forehead as I scribble furiously:: OK then, one thing that has always puzzled me... what was his favorite color?"

"Huh???"

I could clearly see from her reaction that my questions were beginning to get stupid. Was I losing my edge? I wondered if I might be getting distracted by the Mistresses in the room. Or had the mere thought of having another close encounter with Giantess Gretchen rattled me? After all, it was on my first case with Tracer, looking for that very Giantess, that I was shot in my knee for the first time. I decided to wrap things up and head back to the office to go over my notes.

"Well I guess that's the crop. Thanks for your time, Miss Tara, there's a lot of new angles here for me to chew on, and if you think of anything else you want to spill, here's my card. You can reach me on the blower if anything comes up"

And with that, the interview was over, and I headed for the secret panel. I couldn't see any mooseheads on this side of the wall, or any other kind of antlered heads for that matter, and so I just stood there with a moronic look on my face, trying to figure out how I was gonna get back out to the other room. I became aware of some scattered laughter aimed in my direction, and as if on cue, everybody in the room clapped twice in unison, and the wall slid open to let me out. Don't you just hate it when everybody else knows something that you don't?

I thought I was in the clear, but just as I was heading through the opening, I slipped in something wet on the floor, and I fell hard, with my ass landing right in a puddle of some kind of slimy goo. With as much dignity as I could muster, which admittedly wasn't much, I headed for the street. But as I walked past the grinning bouncer at the door, he reached out and grabbed my caboose and squeezed.

Well, I had just about as much fun as I could take from that bozo in one night. In one smooth motion, I wheeled around, reached into my bra, pulled out my roscoe and drilled him in both knees. I made two great shots. Dead center on both caps. The silly grin vanished, and he started rolling around on the floor like somebody had shot him. I stood around a little too long though, soaking up the satisfaction, and the coppers were on me before I could breeze out of there.

You were wondering how I got pinched? That's how.


(to be continued)

Girl Friday