Back Into The Fray…

… And about time too!

Hi my naughties!

I am so very sorry for my prolonged absence. I don’t want to turn this into a self-righteous rant, but Life has most definitely happened and in the worst of ways. I’ve had everything from a full blown return of my depression to a death of a close family member, on top of financial difficulties. In short, my life has been a fiasco for a couple of months, and that has not only led to little writing, but also to very little sex (depression = no libido).

However!! I am jumping back in, and full steam ahead!

There are a few kinky things I’ve been up to of late, which will be the subject of upcoming posts (because they deserve their own posts – but I promise, they will actually be up soon). Here are the topics you can expect to see covered in the upcoming weeks:

1. Le Salon de L’amour et de la Séduction a.k.a. The All About Sex Show

Taking place at the end of January, or beginning of February (depending on the year), Montreal plays host to the All About Sex Show, which has a long-ass French name to satisfy our loving, and not at all tyrannic, O.L.F. (French Language Office).

A side note for those of you who do not hail from Montreal… Continue reading

Cam Girl or Escort – News and Updates

Hello naughty bunnies! Have you all been good?

I fear that I, myself, have not been good at all. Neither has subby-hubby but that’s another matter altogether.

Why was Miss Pippa Not Posting For So Long?

I am sorry to say, my dears, that I have not been doing my best on the health spectrum. I’ve been plagued by migraines and anxiety attacks during the last month, to a point where I was less than functional. You could not expect me to get up from bed, let alone write anything.

I spent days in bed, binge-watching tv and dreaming of things to do to hubby, but not having the energy to act on any of my naughty instincts. It also made me wish I had a few blog posts waiting on hold that I could just post on a whim, instead of writing spontaneously like I do. It’s fun to have the spontaneity, but it makes for long hiatuses if I am not feeling well, or if life happens.

Life Happened, Indeed!

I got a “promotion” at work. I call it a “promotion,” in quotation marks because there is absolutely no change in my status with the company, nor is there any change in my pay. My daily tasks and responsibilities, however, are completely different from my previous position at work (we’re talking a complete 180 here!).

I went from a customer service position to an administrative position, which is a pretty sweet deal. I was sick and tired of dealing with absolutely moronic customers who could probably not tell their suitcases from their own head if you were to ask them under duress. I swear, I was one cancelled flight away of requiring either sick leave, or going on a rampage!

So now, I work away from the public. I still get to wear a (not so) sexy flight attendant uniform, but I now sit quietly in the control tower, bossing the people on the floor below around. It’s a position called “connection coordinator,” and I essentially ensure that passengers from delayed flights are taken care of (preferably, I make sure they reach their final destination from my power spot in the tower, but sometimes I have to issue them hotel rooms, etc.).

This job comes with a whole lot of power (and thus responsibility – that’s what uncle Ben always said, right? *wink*). I get to make certain calls that I was never allowed to make in my previous position. I get to call the people on the floor and say “stop this passenger, they are going on this other flight now, so that they get to their destination faster.” I also have control over the baggage room and ground crew, and I can even boss some managers around, as I report to bigger bosses. Said bigger bosses take action based on my suggestions, which means that I basically call the shots when it comes to airport operations.

It’s way too much fun! Though I sometimes think that they should never have trusted a Domme like me with that amount of power… *wink*

Money Is Tight: I Need More Work

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I Fucked Him Into Oblivion – A Casual Femdom Moment

Last night, we had sex.

The spontaneous, gross, sweaty kind.

It’s the first time we’ve touched each other in a few weeks. I am kept busy with a new position at work and he has a new schedule he is trying to get used to. Our internal clocks are all askew. We honestly are lucky if we are awake in each other’s company during the day.

So, when subby-hubby woke up at 3:30 a.m. (I was, naturally, still wide awake), and gave me the cutest of looks – you know the one: big dark doe-eyes just begging for your attention – in spite of his sleepiness, I had to join him.

“Shh,” I told him, gently stroking his hair and his cheek. He wriggled aside to leave me space to sit on the bed by his side and cuddle. I climbed onto the bed and began kissing him…

And then I denied him further kisses.

This seemed to start a fire in my husband. All traces of sleepiness vanished.

He made little moans of desire with every denial. Every time my tongue playfully flicked across his lips, he attempted to close the gap between us for a kiss. I teased further, asking him if he was sure he wanted sex… wasn’t he too sleepy? Besides, I didn’t feel like getting out the toys – too much work on my lazy day off. *wink*

“I just really want you right now,” he groaned pitifully.

I grinned and draped myself over the bed playfully, lying on my front and looking back at him over my shoulder as I did so. I wriggled my ass appealingly into the air.

These bad boys are the pjs I'm talking about
These bad boys are the pjs I’m talking about

I was clad in my pink-blue-and-white cotton pj shorts. These shorts have loosened over time. They used to hug my booty deliciously. Wear and tear (and washing them at the wrong temperature, I am loath to say) caused them to stretch out and kind of hang from my waist like overgrown boxers. So, with my ass in the air like it was, he could just barely catch glimpses of my cunt beyond the fabric.

I looked at him invitingly, but didn’t speak a word. A good sub should know what his Miss is thinking before the thought is translated into the spoken word.

I am happy to say that I have trained him very well.

One look and he stripped off all the unnecessary that covered his pale, soft flesh. I backed my but up to his already stiff cock. I allowed him to slip between my thighs, teasingly clenching them, before releasing him again for another mimed stab with his penis.

I played that game for a bit. He grew harder with each twitch of my cunt, hovering just barely above his lonely cock. So I sent him to get me a glass of water.

When he returned, I gratefully took the water and drank some (what? I was thirsty! Sue me). Then I lay on my back, still fully dressed, and commanded him to come to me. He did as I asked.

I raked my nails across his skin

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A Not So Hiatus Hiatus

“Hiatus Hiatus” sounds like the Latin name of a creature buried in the depths of the yellowed pages of an Encyclopaedia.

Moving on…

I am traveling to Germany for the next three weeks.

Leaving in an hour.

I would apologize for the situation, as it will likely prevent further posting at the moment, but I really don’t feel sorry at all. I’m going out of filial duty (visiting family) and to show a good friend around the areas where I grew up (and take the opportunity to be ridiculously touristy as well).

What we have planned.

All the castles, of course. We are going to be looking at Ludwig II of Bavaria’s masterpieces, namely Herren Chiemsee, Linderhof, and, the pièce de résistance, Neuschwanstein. We also booked a stay in the Villa on Trapp (the Hiiiiii~~~~~~lls are aliiiii~~~~~~ve with the sound of mu~~~sic!) in the neighbouring Salzburg. We will also be meandering around Munich for a few days, then Frankfurt and Wiesbaden, Mainz, Köln, and some other musts along the Rhein. We are expecting lots of walking, great hikes in Bavaria, and amazing (highly caloric) food.

Do not be too surprised, naughty bunnies, if this Domme returns with an extra 10 kilos on her waist (I’m already crying from anxiety at the thought).

A quick side note – I’ve found out, to my great horror, that all the weight I lost over the summer (3 kilos, or six pounds) has come back with a vengeance. I will just lovingly call my paunch a muffin-top, although it is much more like an exploded meringue in reality.

In the meantime

I have tasked my bratty subby-hubby to write no less than TWO blog posts under his name. It is both a preemptive punishment for the times I know he will cum without permission, and a show of power on my part.

By announcing his posts here, I am not giving him a chance to back out. He will be writing one post about what Miss Minty is like as a Femdom (he may phrase it as he wishes, or even compare how I am in-scene vs. out of scene). The other post will be about what it’s like to be a submissive and why it is a good/attractive thing to sub as a man.

He has no choice. I will be monitoring him closely.

You may also get the occasional update from me on my Twitter or Instagram when exciting things come up in the beautiful Land der Deutschen.

So, that’s it. I’m in last-minute packing-frenzy, so I will have to bid you adieu at the moment.

Lots of love,

Minty

P.S.

Have a photo of my newest lingerie set for the trip.

Miss Pippa in Change lingerie
Miss Pippa in Change lingerie

Pink Water – Personal Lubricant Review

Review time! ^_^

Warning! Those who have issues with TL;DR, you may wish to skip ahead to the last header, though you will be missing out on some snarky remarks from me *wink*

About Lubricants (personal or otherwise)

We all have needed to use some at least once in our lives.

While we all have a great laugh at names like “Mr. Lube” and conversations that use the word “lubricate” (okay, it may be just me – screw you, I am too a mature individual!), but the truth is that it is a very necessary product. Whether you are using it to prevent a door from staying stuck, ensure the smooth running of your car, or using WD-40 to detangle a cosplay wig, the lubricant is what makes everything go smoothly (no pun int-… who am I kidding, that pun was totally intended!).

And vaginas are another contraption that requires some greasing.

Whether it was due to stress and nervousness, dehydration, medications, lack of arousal, hormones, time in the cycle; whatever the reason, the quote from Kill Bill

[…] this chick’s cooch will get drier than a bucket of sand

is sometimes more on point than an individual in possession of Lady Bits would desire.

Yes, yes. I know. It is a sad reality we endowed with female genitalia have to deal with. We could cry you a river, but then we would be even more dehydrated, and that’s bad news for whatever you want to have going on down there. Most times, most vaginas are lucky and self-lubricate. But it is not always enough, or sometimes can be completely lacking.

So we have to result to some external help. I speak, of course, of personal lubricants (please, children, do not use WD-40 internally or on mucus membranes) – though a good foreplay in capable hands will also aid things significantly.

With Vaginas, it’s all because of friction.

I remember seeing a T-Shirt sold in one of those tacky souvenir and novelty shops that spread like a bad case of the clap around the tourist traps in my city. I can’t recall the exact wording on the garment, but it showed a brief 3 panel comic with stick figures.

1st image: two stick figures fucking.

2nd image: their genitals catch fire.

3rd image: nothing is left but a pile of ash.

And that, my friends, is essentially what happens without personal lubricants if you’re unlucky. There are also many factors that can worsen said chafing, but that’s not what I wish to discuss here.

All this to say that I wish to review my favourite lube – especially when it comes to anything vaginal (sex, masturbation, toys).

PINK Water – designed with Women in mind

product_all_water

Please don’t be mislead by the caption. It is also fantastic for men! However, there are a few things that make the PINK Lubricant products the vagina’s special friend.

PINK is the line of female oriented lubes designed by the same company that does Gun Oil lube. While I have never used Gun Oil before, the reviews for it are stellar (except for the few idiots that mistook it as an actual firearm lubricant and wondered why it gummed up their weapons – god, I wish they were trolling!). So when I was looking for a personal lubricant for myself, I certainly short listed it as a potential choice.

My personal problem with most lubes is that my skin is too fucking sensitive.

I am not trying to be coy or cute about it – no Princess and the Pea tale here, folks! – my skin is bloody awful. Wonderfully pale, I bruise if you only look at me wrong. And I do mean bruise: the big, blackish-purple swells with the greenish tinge along the edges, grace my body every other inch. I seem to be a weird cross between a topographical map and a dalmatian.

On top of that, if I so much as think about going out in the sun without SPF 60 sunscreen, I break out in hives. You read that right. Miss Pippa doesn’t burn – in fact, she is one of the few lucky natural blondes of Northern Europe who can properly tan. As a compromise, though, she gets an allergic reaction to the fucking sunlight – because karma, I suppose. So if I am not careful (especially in the summer), I will spend all my days indoors, tearfully rubbing cortisone antihistamine creams onto my skin.

But, wait! There’s more! Call now and you can hear all about how Miss Pippa will bruise from the wind. This is not an exaggeration. Especially in the Winter, when the winds are icy cold and have a mean streak to them, I will end up with what looks like clawmarks all over my exposed skin (this is especially true of my neck and has been cause for concern for many acquaintances of mine). Bright red lines biting deep into the pale flesh. For most people, those marks go away in a matter of minutes. Mine last at least half a day.

All that to say that my skin needs – uh – extra special care when it comes to products that will be used on it. For instance, I can just forget about latex condoms: they give me a rash that will last for weeks.

In comes Pink Water to save the day!

(I also need to work on being more concise… jeez, that intro was long *sweatdrop*)

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Trial By Fire: A Review of Play Party v. 24

Hello bunnies – I am returned… exhausted, but with a story to tell.

I am aware that my online presence has been wanting of late. It has a lot to do with stuff I’ve had to deal with at home and work… everything from losing my dog to getting disciplined by management. I’m at the end of my rope… and sadly not the good, kinky kind.

So, I decided to take a break from all that crappy, unpleasant adulting stuff, and decided to take time off to attend one of Mistress Hell Kitty‘s amazing play parties. This one was number 24 in a series, though unfortunately the last one at its specific location (due to change of ownership – or so was my understanding of the situation, – the dungeon needs a new venue).

I was a last minute guest.

I had been invited to the event by Mr. Wildcard eons ago. I had intended to attend, but my generosity towards my colleagues at work was taken advantage of, and I ended up scheduled on the evening of the party (a crappy 3 a.m. to 8 a.m. shift) and would have to miss out.

Then, after an awful day on the Thursday where just everything seemed to go to hell in a handbasket, I asked a colleague who owes me a favour if she could help me out. She initially accepted, and so I contacted the event organizers and got my butt on that guestlist. I needed the respite from responsibilities and keeping my shit together as much as I do.

So I was having a normal Saturday which went south very quickly. First off, I woke up late. I was supposed to be somewhere at noon. I woke up at 11:50. Then, what normally takes me a 15 minute drive on the worst of days took an hour (yes, 60 whole minutes) due to construction and stupid fucking #!@%&!!#$@%&! who don’t know how to drive. I ended up being nearly two hours late for my meeting, feeling embarrassed and enraged.

(As I would later tell my husband, traffic is the worst! I was really starting to lose my cool… I was beginning to think that ISIS could go fuck itself; if anyone is going to cause a mass bombing, it’s a person who is rage-quitting being stuck in traffic.)

Then, to make a dreadful day worse, my colleague got back to me and told me my shift was too shitty and she didn’t want to take it anymore. Apparently, I should just bite the bullet and go to work. I told her that I knew this wasn’t the deal of the century, but we had an agreement – and I had helped her countless times in the past, even when I found her shifts were not to my liking. To which the little… urgh! … did not respond for over three hours.

I honestly didn’t know at that point if I should drive myself off a cliff, or run over a pedestrian (I am using hyperbole, but I was still pretty ticked off).

The Play Party at the legendary dungeon of the glorious Mistress Hellkitty, was no longer on the table for me…

Until my colleague finally took my shift. I had the Sunday off and, thus, could freely attend Play Party #24 after all.

I was jittery and anxious. It would be my first time going to such a very “public” play party. There were only about 60 attendees; but as someone who was only familiar with Miss Pearl’s play parties (which never have more than a dozen guests), I was terrified.

Social anxieties notwithstanding, I didn’t find out I could attend the party (which started at 10 p.m.) until shortly before 9 in the evening. Panic immediately set in!

What am I going to wear?

I may have flailed while asking myself that particular question. I had no ideas, no plans, and I looked like death warmed up (no make-up, etc.).

A fetish outfit?

No good – the ones I have from my modelling days won’t fit my stupidly overgrown chesticles. Besides, I am not sure I fit in any of them anymore. Breasts notwithstanding, I no longer have the lovely figure I had when I was twenty-one.

Pretty and Sexy Lingerie?

Well… yes, sure. But again, I am having a huge brassiere shortage in my dresser. All my bras are C-cups. I have grown to a DD-E cup about three years ago, but have been too broke to properly update my undergarment collection. And god knows that ill fitting bras look awful!

A Kinky Themed Outfit?

Sure – but what?! All my costumes are in boxes. We only moved a little over a month ago! What can I possibly…?

While running through my apartment like a chicken with it’s head cut off, I stumbled on a wonderful find. In my stocking and tight drawer (yes, I have a drawer dedicated exclusively to those – and no socks are allowed in it! – thanks to my job uniform requiring new tights about two-three times a week), I found these:

vertical_striped_thigh_high_stockings_2
The dream find that inspired me.

There were completely untouched: unopened and unworn. I had bought them years ago (about two apartments ago), and thrown them in the back of my stocking drawer only to forget all about them. Well, it was time they came out to party too. And, given their appearance, I knew what I would dress up as:

A Circus Ring Master!

I had everything I needed.  Continue reading

Self(ie)-Portrait!

Hello my naughty bunnies!

While I have been a boring old lady of late and not done very much in the way of kink, I have not forgotten you. In fact, I created ART just for you! *wink*

Given the fact that I had a rather unpleasant course of the monthlies and that my subby-hubby was completely exhausted (and on an opposite schedule than I) by his new job, I spent my time having kinky thoughts and putting them to paper.

Me, Myself and I

Oh, but they’re not in writing – no. That took way more concentration than this bloated and migrane-y Femdom was able to conjure. Instead, I simply sat down, picked up a pencil, and drew this:

casual_miss-pippa_colour

This is a more or less accurate self-portrait that I drew on a whim. I haven’t done this whole drawing thing in a long time, so my kinky art needs some work. But I would say that, for a first attempt at drawing again after a five year hiatus, this wasn’t too bad at all.

About the Drawing

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Have Another…

Unfortunately, I find myself in a bind of late. I do not wish to go on another hiatus, but work is keeping me busy, busy, busy! I will be travelling next month, so I am working extra to save some spending money for the occasion. Sadly, my kinky lifestyle is taking a backseat as a result.

This does not mean that you are forgotten, however, my naughty bunnies! Miss Minty is still around and even wishes to post enthusiastically. Unfortunately, as I am not having nearly as much sex as I would like lately (subby-hubby is exhausted by his new job and I’m simply all work), I am not one hundred percent sure of what to discuss as a topic in the meantime…

Suggestions?

Well, that’s that for right. Once I have something for you guys, I promise a nice post, like the usual.

For now, my dears, you will simply have to be content with another photo of me.

This one is an old one: it was taken maybe 6 or 7 years ago, when my relationship with the hubby was still new and crisp… and I was so wonderfully slender! *wistful sigh* I wish I could look like that again. That was back in my blonde days too…

missminty1
Back in my blonde days… Must have been around 2009. Photographer: Guy Labrie

Well, I hope you like it! I am just sad I won’t ever look like that again… the worst part is, even then, I thought I was too fat. So now I feel even worse. But that’s beside the point.

Hugs and spanks to all!

TL;DR – Fine, Have A Picture

Hello naughty bunnies!

Apparently, my last kinky post was not all too popular with you guys. I think only one person may have read it through to the end and since then my posts have gotten total radio silence. I won’t lie: my ego is a tad bruised. I should give you a beating to make up for it! Luckily, I am in a generous and forgiving mood (you had better thank me later, though!)

I am assuming (and kind of hoping) that my last post detailing my session with subby-hubby was only so unpopular because it was so long. I hope I am right.

In any case, no long rambles from me this time.

Just a picture. 

5b_privacy
Photographer: Guy Raymond from NU2 Concept Studio                                                                                                           Miss Pippa Minty and her favourite sub!

Yes, that is me. 

No, there is no photoshop. Pure, unadulterated moi, on top of subby-hubby in an odd pose (still, at least I am on top).

Subby-hubby had won a draw at Montreal Comiccon for a free photoshoot with NU2 Concept Studio, which is where this picture is from.

I expect this to satisfy your naughtiness until I have nursed my pride back to health so I may post again.

In Which I Could Not Attend a Party

Last Saturday, I was invited to one of Miss Pearl‘s glamourous and sexy parties. I had every intention of attending it, but the universe thought otherwise and completely nixed my plans.

My body just hates me.

I have been ill with lightheadedness and dizzy spells for nigh on a week now, and there has been no improvement. I do not know if it is due to tiredness, or something else – but as I am also losing my voice at the moment, I certainly think I am cooking up something. In any case, I feel betrayed by my body that has decided that sending my brain on a vertigo-inducing merry-go-round is a good idea. [Fun fact: after getting diagnosed on Monday, it turns out I have Labyrintitis.]

My husband, on the other hand, is full of life, fit and able. He was also invited to the party. And there was no way I was going to let my body’s issues poop on his parade too. I encouraged him to go without me.

And then the envy kicked in.

Now, I have mentioned previously that subby-hubby and myself have been working on a semi-poly/open relationship type of arrangement (I realize that sounds convoluted, but I honestly don’t know what else to call it). By that, I meant that we play with different people, but always with permission and open communication between the two of us in case the situation changes. We also believe that, as long as we want to come home to each other, we are still in a healthy relationship.

In that case, why was the green-eyed monster writhing in my gut? Well, I suppose it had more to do with the fact that I was left out. I usually am at least an attendee at Miss Pearl’s parties, so hearing everything second hand just doesn’t compare. It’s like eating a frozen microwaveable-meal: full of expectation, but ultimately drab and disappointing.

But it is not the party that is the let down – oh no! It is my stupid fucking health. I wish I had the stamina to go through a normal work week without feeling as though I had been put through the wringer. Seriously – I couldn’t feel more dead if I’d been hung on the gallows this weekend.

So I sat on the couch at home, drifting in and out of consciousness, binge watching crime-dramas on Netflix (I ran out of the other stuff). My husband called, at my request, to relay some of the goings-on at the party, but that didn’t help me feel much better. He was clearly having a blast and I was missing out.

I sat at home, horny and eager to punish some naughty folks, but only wishfully thinking it. The worst thing is that Miss Pearl only lives four blocks or so from us. I could have sauntered over there in a heartbeat if my health had allowed me to. But I didn’t want to be the kind of party guest that sits sullenly in a corner and complains about feeling unwell.

Around 1:30 A.M. subby-hubby came home.

I sat him down and paused whatever Netflix was flashing at my retinas. I sat up like a lovesick puppy who just got his owner’s attention – not very Femdom-y, I know; but I am cutesy like that. I was happy he was home and I was no longer alone with my aches and fictional crime.

After we exchanged a kiss, I asked him how the party was. His response was typical: “Good.” Well, no shit Sherlock! He didn’t even want to leave the party until I texted him that I wanted to see him before I left for work at 2:00 A.M.

Mais encore?” I asked him with a raised eyebrow.

“I got the spankies I wanted.”

“Okaaaaay…” I know I said that we communicate a lot and that this keeps our relationship amazing, but his communication with me takes a little encouragement. This was going to be a hard nut to crack.

I asked him to tell me more. He didn’t know what to say. “Who spanked you? Who else was there? Did the hosts do any fun scenes?”

“Yeah, they did. Mr. Wildcard played with Cheeky Pants in the kitchen. They did some wax play. Cheeky Pants giggled the whole time.” Okay, we were starting to get somewhere.

“And Miss Pearl? Was she the one that spanked you?”

“No. She volunteered to rope bunny for Pirate King who needed some practice with his knots.”

“And who spanked you?”

I can unfortunately not give a nickname to the spanker of my spankee husband, as I’ve not met the person and can therefore not label them with an appropriate moniker yet. But I intend to meet them before long.

The point of me writing down our conversation is that I had to literally pry the information on the party out of him. I wish I could tell you more about Miss Pearl’s party, dear readers, but as I was not there (and as my husband wasn’t exactly volunteering the information) I can hardly describe the setting, or the people. All I know is that it was starlight themed and that my husband returned covered in glitter – so clearly, there were fairy herpes floating in the air around Miss Pearl’s party.

His private after-party

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