Images, visions and memories flood past like I am sitting in a movie theatre watching the big screen, except it’s my life on show and I am the only one watching, I think?
Suddenly, black, hey where's the ending, I’m not done yet?
I see a small white dot, it grows. It's light, this is becoming some trip. I begin to hear voices, I am becoming aware. I feel the bed underneath me, stomach cramps. I feel limp.
My eye's peel open, "hello Princess, feeling comfortable are we?"
Oh crap I think to myself it's the nurse from hell yet again. “back again, sweetie stupid Bitch, I knew it wouldn't be long", she ad’s. My mouth opens; slowly I manage to add "fuck you".
*Slap*, straight on the cheek.
Rage fires up my tired and recovering body; I lift or try to lift off the bed but arrghh, what’s this I am cuffed at the legs and hands to the bed. She looks back a laugh's, "awwww poor wittle, thing" as she caress's the spot she slapped me.
"You’ll be my bitch and behave princess"
"Go fuck yourself Mole, that’s the only thing I'm selling you".
She grabs my face, pushing her thumb and fingers into my cheeks hard, I lunge forward bite her on the webbing. She pulls her hand away cursing and pulling a gag ball out of her pocket, "mmrrrph mrrrph", I try to retort.
I watch, as my eyes give evil stares as she injects something into my arm. I am conscious but very relaxed, unable to move or speak, lying on a bed with no windows, the door has a small viewing window in it, I notice that as my tormentor walks out of the room. I look around, everything is familiar I think I have been here before, I remember my events in the Soho leading up to my last stay.
I struggle to remember how I got here this time, my mind draws a blank, I remember dancing on a table in a bar and then... scratchy scratchy...
I can't see any personal items. I feel tiredness overcoming me, my eyes close.
Repeated visits from the nurse from hell, still she feels the need to keep the gag ball in my mouth, with no concept of time it seemed like ages yet it was only a matter of hours and she loosens the strap on the gag ball, slowly removes it from my mouth.
I gasp for air, never thought I’d be so happy to take a breath from my mouth, I almost had to think about breathing. "Now lets try this again" She ad’s as she slides the back of her hand softly across my cheek. I turn look up into her eyes; she seems a little more genuine with her touch.
"What's worse my bark or my bite, Nurse Bitch"?
"Miss Bitch to you, princess"
"Oh vomit I feel sick all a sudden"
*Slap*
"Oh slap me some more Miss Bitch"
"You like it rough don't you princess"
"Conversation is going no where, I need to pee"
"I'll get a bed pan"
"I hate them, let me walk please"
She presses a button on the side of the bed; a large male nurse walks in the room. He is has a dark complexion, short black hair, rather physical looking, yummy would be a better word.
My eyes light up a bit more; my nurse from hell removes the sheet and motions to the nurse. He walks over she slides her hand on the inside of my lower leg.
Slowly one each bind is removed from my legs and arms. I sit up in the bed, the hospital gown isn’t tied so well at the back, my lower back tattoo is showing. The words bite me encased in tribal designs.
She slides her hand over my back. "Walk with us princess"
I am slowly helped out of bed gingerly walking over to the door aided by my male nurse, still not knowing his name.
"What’s your name, sweetie"
No response, "Cat got your tongue?"
"I've trained him well princess”, ad’s my nurse from hell.
I am helped into a hall way, slowly I make my way down the hall way, led by two companions. I have no idea how long I have been here or much about what happened to me. I walk gingerly down the hall way, my head bowed down, holding my tummy as I walk.
I walk past closed door's I see now windows I must underground this time I am starting to think. I suddenly Stop near the end of the hall, I am looking at a set of steel bar’s, closing a dark room. Another hall way leads to my right.
My companions stop, look at me. I see a figure moving inside.
"Hey", I shout.
"Hey, what" she adds
"Not you, him or inside there who is he"
"Keep walking Princess, he's a bad boy'
"I like bad boys, though"
"Oh we know, princess, we know, keep walking"
I start to move slowly across the hall, turning right, as I pass the steel door, I don’t take my eyes off the darkened room. Slowly he walks out of the darkness. Tall, an average build for a guy, not muscle bound, but a nice chest, he is wearing nothing but a ripped pair of jeans. Sandy blonde hair that rest on his shoulders.
He looks rough, but roughly handsome, I smile he is look at me. He walks towards the bar's grabbing hold, I see the tattoo on his right forearm "hellbound" it reads.
He smile's, I wonder, who is this guy, what is he doing locked behind steel bar's in a darkened room. I want to talk to him but Mr Mute here is leading me away, I slide my head back as I pass the corner of the doorway.
He turns, walks towards the darkness I see the tattoo on his back it’s a wolf.
I muse to myself "a hellbound wolf maybe", I look up, suddenly I have a purpose, what is a guy with a tattoo of a wolf and the words "hellbound" doing shut in a room like an animal.
Oz, x
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Chemical Nightmare
Slam the door to the cubicle next door slams shut. My humble frame slumped in the rear corner, the door to the public toilet is switched to "No Vacancy'. I have been reduced to a shell, needle tracks build on my arm.
Its cold, I feel it, I shiver. I Struggle for warmth in my lonely existence. Sequences of events and a series of wrong decisions, careless heart transactions sending me into a heroin addicted like spiral.
Flashbacks, visions of a seemingly distant high life of expensive designer outfits, best in latex, leather, lingerie, gowns, earning money quicker than I could spend it.
My secret stash of cash slowly gives away like an old tree stump on a desolate landscape to the demands of nature. My big heart keeps searching for inner strength, my blood black and becoming thicker as the days pass by.
Alone I shiver; I rub my arms in an attempt to keep warm. Yet my Sami seemingly no where to be seen anywhere. I collect broken friendships, broken hearts, and a lost love like trophies.
Our two souls wanting the same thing, yet impossible to find the sanctity of a safe environment to let our love flourish into something resembling the hanging gardens of Babylon.
Flick of the lighter I slipped out of my pocket, the powder on the spoon burns into a liquid. I fill the needle I left on the seat in front of me.
Flick, flick, squirt, my safe place awaits me. I tie the latex tube around my arm; pull it with my teeth tight. Ouch slight pain, the blood thinner injects into my arm.
Needle, rubber tube drops on the floor with my limp arm, I feel it taking affect.
"Bang" on the door. "Hey" a voice speaks to me.
My lips move, my altered state consuming, clouding my judgment, I retort with a slow and soft "Pick another bitch, leave me alone".
Thud, my head hits the rear wall, I slump into the corner how one re-invents themselves from here remains a big question.
"Hey", she replies....Silence, my eyes close...
"Bang, Bang", "hey, open the door"
Darkness consumes me to fading repeated sounds of “Bang, Bang", "hey, open the door"
Its cold, I feel it, I shiver. I Struggle for warmth in my lonely existence. Sequences of events and a series of wrong decisions, careless heart transactions sending me into a heroin addicted like spiral.
Flashbacks, visions of a seemingly distant high life of expensive designer outfits, best in latex, leather, lingerie, gowns, earning money quicker than I could spend it.
My secret stash of cash slowly gives away like an old tree stump on a desolate landscape to the demands of nature. My big heart keeps searching for inner strength, my blood black and becoming thicker as the days pass by.
Alone I shiver; I rub my arms in an attempt to keep warm. Yet my Sami seemingly no where to be seen anywhere. I collect broken friendships, broken hearts, and a lost love like trophies.
Our two souls wanting the same thing, yet impossible to find the sanctity of a safe environment to let our love flourish into something resembling the hanging gardens of Babylon.
Flick of the lighter I slipped out of my pocket, the powder on the spoon burns into a liquid. I fill the needle I left on the seat in front of me.
Flick, flick, squirt, my safe place awaits me. I tie the latex tube around my arm; pull it with my teeth tight. Ouch slight pain, the blood thinner injects into my arm.
Needle, rubber tube drops on the floor with my limp arm, I feel it taking affect.
"Bang" on the door. "Hey" a voice speaks to me.
My lips move, my altered state consuming, clouding my judgment, I retort with a slow and soft "Pick another bitch, leave me alone".
Thud, my head hits the rear wall, I slump into the corner how one re-invents themselves from here remains a big question.
"Hey", she replies....Silence, my eyes close...
"Bang, Bang", "hey, open the door"
Darkness consumes me to fading repeated sounds of “Bang, Bang", "hey, open the door"
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Chained Love Triangle
Sitting on the beach in the weever protected lands I was looking like the lonliest bimbo cheerleader in my practice outfit the gentle waves of an empty sea massaging my toes. Not a bird, fish, shark or living creature in sight. I was sitting on a lonely little island surrounded by water. The gentle sound of waves all the music I need.
The self enforced solitude a necessity to collect my thoughts. In recent times I have had the privilege of cheating long term friends by leaving Sinsity after being duped by an imbecile into owning my own club.
My resume reading working girl, dancer, club manager, club ceo, and Club Owner, what is there left for the virtual worlds bad girl to achieve. The uncanny ability search inside a person’s heart to ignite their passion all for my own personal gain is a rare but sometimes dangerous gift to posses.
I could paint a mural with the broken hearts I’ve collected, my shape, soft lines matched with sensual attitude, an erotic temptation to irresistible for the dirt bags that frequent the club scene to resist.
Despite all the emotional waste generated by my escapades sometimes I manage to let my true heart show its colours. I had a friend who through another one of my own achievements with her heart locked in a cage. Another friend the sweetest little neko untarnished but deserving of a better relationship than she previously had.
My secret little project to convince them their two hearts beat the same stroke. Careful observations of the caged heart told me that my little neko possessed the key to the cage.
My unconscious brain ticking has been ticking over waiting for the right catalyst to set my devious but heartfelt plan into motion. It came one late afternoon a heartfelt question from my little neko, almost made the bad girl cry.
A responsive comment by the caged heart gave me the catalyst I was searching for. Step one protect the sweetest neko from the dark surroundings. That being a club I was part owner of, my business partner banging everything but the brothel doors.
Protection in the form of collaring my sweet little neko, previously I had given stern warnings to leave my own loved one and my submissive girl alone. Step two convince my caged heart friend to take the risk, come out little birdie and experience possibly the love she’s been looking for. Step three was to groom my little neko, open her eyes.
Step four I had to strip away the binds of procrastination from my caged hearted friend. Then simply just like the spark from the flint lighting a match head the romance begins. With my friends out of the cage, and my neko's eyes opened I made her kneel in front of me in the presence of her new beau I unlocked her collar, and removed it, I set her free into the arms of her lover. The act of collaring my neko previously setting of a rage of fire from my now former business partner, sadly he was to dumb to see my plan moreover I needed an out, just another death threat to add to my collection, Oh Joy sucks to be me sometimes.
The sun sets over the water slowly in my desolate surrounding, the twig light of the day. Is this my twig light too? In my solitude I wipe a tear from my face.
Its winter now, my relationship with Sami heads into hibernation like every winter our busy lives shift just enough for us to miss each other, one little hour makes that much difference.
I have my Danni to keep me warm, who is she you may ask, where did she come from, my little secret. The silhouette of Kaz on the street corner in the Soho was no ghost, given life through another identity. The lord it seems works in mysterious ways just like me.
I move to get up "Cough", blood spatter into my hand, the invisible sign that remains hidden, my battles with the virtual worlds dirt bags have taken their toll, and how many more will this heart take? Remembering the face’s , the places, been called many things, bitch, slut, tart all the derogatory names, the one line that my mind always settles on “You’re a slut Ozzie, incapable of being loved”.
The sun begins to set; I lay down on the beach too weak to move tonight, maybe the dawn, a new direction a new path with my Danni and my Sami by my side, my very own chained love triangle.
Oz,x
The self enforced solitude a necessity to collect my thoughts. In recent times I have had the privilege of cheating long term friends by leaving Sinsity after being duped by an imbecile into owning my own club.
My resume reading working girl, dancer, club manager, club ceo, and Club Owner, what is there left for the virtual worlds bad girl to achieve. The uncanny ability search inside a person’s heart to ignite their passion all for my own personal gain is a rare but sometimes dangerous gift to posses.
I could paint a mural with the broken hearts I’ve collected, my shape, soft lines matched with sensual attitude, an erotic temptation to irresistible for the dirt bags that frequent the club scene to resist.
Despite all the emotional waste generated by my escapades sometimes I manage to let my true heart show its colours. I had a friend who through another one of my own achievements with her heart locked in a cage. Another friend the sweetest little neko untarnished but deserving of a better relationship than she previously had.
My secret little project to convince them their two hearts beat the same stroke. Careful observations of the caged heart told me that my little neko possessed the key to the cage.
My unconscious brain ticking has been ticking over waiting for the right catalyst to set my devious but heartfelt plan into motion. It came one late afternoon a heartfelt question from my little neko, almost made the bad girl cry.
A responsive comment by the caged heart gave me the catalyst I was searching for. Step one protect the sweetest neko from the dark surroundings. That being a club I was part owner of, my business partner banging everything but the brothel doors.
Protection in the form of collaring my sweet little neko, previously I had given stern warnings to leave my own loved one and my submissive girl alone. Step two convince my caged heart friend to take the risk, come out little birdie and experience possibly the love she’s been looking for. Step three was to groom my little neko, open her eyes.
Step four I had to strip away the binds of procrastination from my caged hearted friend. Then simply just like the spark from the flint lighting a match head the romance begins. With my friends out of the cage, and my neko's eyes opened I made her kneel in front of me in the presence of her new beau I unlocked her collar, and removed it, I set her free into the arms of her lover. The act of collaring my neko previously setting of a rage of fire from my now former business partner, sadly he was to dumb to see my plan moreover I needed an out, just another death threat to add to my collection, Oh Joy sucks to be me sometimes.
The sun sets over the water slowly in my desolate surrounding, the twig light of the day. Is this my twig light too? In my solitude I wipe a tear from my face.
Its winter now, my relationship with Sami heads into hibernation like every winter our busy lives shift just enough for us to miss each other, one little hour makes that much difference.
I have my Danni to keep me warm, who is she you may ask, where did she come from, my little secret. The silhouette of Kaz on the street corner in the Soho was no ghost, given life through another identity. The lord it seems works in mysterious ways just like me.
I move to get up "Cough", blood spatter into my hand, the invisible sign that remains hidden, my battles with the virtual worlds dirt bags have taken their toll, and how many more will this heart take? Remembering the face’s , the places, been called many things, bitch, slut, tart all the derogatory names, the one line that my mind always settles on “You’re a slut Ozzie, incapable of being loved”.
The sun begins to set; I lay down on the beach too weak to move tonight, maybe the dawn, a new direction a new path with my Danni and my Sami by my side, my very own chained love triangle.
Oz,x
Monday, October 5, 2009
"Yes Mistress"
The Parched Lips, dry mouth and the slow and un-reactive state of being, all symptoms of the exhaustive morning after. I raise my head off the pillow slightly; wisp away the frizzy, fraggle like hair from my face. Another big night or weekend, time can be such a difficult thing to grasp when riding the chemical rollercoaster.
I look down, my right leg is exposed from the white bed sheet, a red camisole, and I slip a loose strap back onto my shoulder. I sit up, bringing my legs up to my chest, my naked behind exposed. I quickly scan the room; the bed had been lived in.
I scratch my neck, searching for memories of the previous night I was drawing blanks. I probably had a complete novel of stories lost in my subconscious mind. Moments of pleasure inspired by chemicals, hiding somewhere maybe in someone’s video cabinet. It would be worthy of top self porn. I check my arms and torso, no obvious signs of emerging bruises.
I was alone but by no means lonely. I had a nice home, a nice job albeit as a Madam, I had friends to worry for me, a partner to help me smile, I was content. The long and winding paths that lead me to the position I was in had taken me through the world of BDSM, a tour of enlightenment. Perceived by some as somewhat dark, misunderstood by most. I had been guided through it by my personal mentor, a professional Domme.
I had felt the hand of Dominants. I felt the submissive feeling flowing in my veins like some additional hormone influencing my thought patterns. I took the tools of that trade, symbols of another life and placed them in my wooden chest at the side of my bed. I look; I notice the chest is open.
I could see Whips, Chains, gag-balls a collection of steel collars and other items of notoriety. A new item sits on top of the black latex suites, a leash handle. "Yes Mistress" I said softly out-loud. I had the teachings of the Gor Traditions, which I symbolically applied a lighter too.
I didn’t agree with the notion that only men can be dominant. I gave people the ultimate erotic experience when I was in full control of the situation. Yet I got more pleasure from being controlled. I could switch between roles with relative ease when needed, yet the science of supply and demand meant I was more often controlling.
I now held a jem in the palm of my hand. She presented herself to me; she had an all too familiar look, and style. Together on stage we had a natural ability to light up the room. Her service to me was not an obligation it was a gift. One that I On stage together we lit up the room, cherished, she was my "Star of India".
The insecure Oz would have considered how this new found stature would be perceived but I had the balance and poise of someone walking the line of confidence. A good home for a compulsive attention seeker, I thought to myself. I had one area of my nature that needed controlling, that being my alcoholic, drug fuelled binges.
It seemed this one had lasted for days. I remember being onstage, dancing to the beat of a new disk jockey. He had good choice in music, I thought to myself I could definitely work with him more often. I sink back onto the bed, my head hits the pillow. I grab a spare pillow pull it firmly against my chest. Looking up at the ceiling, I think of Sami or try my mind keeps refocusing on the DJ.
"Hmmmm" I say, I start to day dream, "Sami, Sami, Sami I say out loud. Then I sit upright in the bed, I gasp, a memory, a flash back. Oh no, a surprised look on my face. The DJ, opps, some parts of me just will never change. I guess it’s a case of once a bad girl always a bad girl.
Oz,x
I look down, my right leg is exposed from the white bed sheet, a red camisole, and I slip a loose strap back onto my shoulder. I sit up, bringing my legs up to my chest, my naked behind exposed. I quickly scan the room; the bed had been lived in.
I scratch my neck, searching for memories of the previous night I was drawing blanks. I probably had a complete novel of stories lost in my subconscious mind. Moments of pleasure inspired by chemicals, hiding somewhere maybe in someone’s video cabinet. It would be worthy of top self porn. I check my arms and torso, no obvious signs of emerging bruises.
I was alone but by no means lonely. I had a nice home, a nice job albeit as a Madam, I had friends to worry for me, a partner to help me smile, I was content. The long and winding paths that lead me to the position I was in had taken me through the world of BDSM, a tour of enlightenment. Perceived by some as somewhat dark, misunderstood by most. I had been guided through it by my personal mentor, a professional Domme.
I had felt the hand of Dominants. I felt the submissive feeling flowing in my veins like some additional hormone influencing my thought patterns. I took the tools of that trade, symbols of another life and placed them in my wooden chest at the side of my bed. I look; I notice the chest is open.
I could see Whips, Chains, gag-balls a collection of steel collars and other items of notoriety. A new item sits on top of the black latex suites, a leash handle. "Yes Mistress" I said softly out-loud. I had the teachings of the Gor Traditions, which I symbolically applied a lighter too.
I didn’t agree with the notion that only men can be dominant. I gave people the ultimate erotic experience when I was in full control of the situation. Yet I got more pleasure from being controlled. I could switch between roles with relative ease when needed, yet the science of supply and demand meant I was more often controlling.
I now held a jem in the palm of my hand. She presented herself to me; she had an all too familiar look, and style. Together on stage we had a natural ability to light up the room. Her service to me was not an obligation it was a gift. One that I On stage together we lit up the room, cherished, she was my "Star of India".
The insecure Oz would have considered how this new found stature would be perceived but I had the balance and poise of someone walking the line of confidence. A good home for a compulsive attention seeker, I thought to myself. I had one area of my nature that needed controlling, that being my alcoholic, drug fuelled binges.
It seemed this one had lasted for days. I remember being onstage, dancing to the beat of a new disk jockey. He had good choice in music, I thought to myself I could definitely work with him more often. I sink back onto the bed, my head hits the pillow. I grab a spare pillow pull it firmly against my chest. Looking up at the ceiling, I think of Sami or try my mind keeps refocusing on the DJ.
"Hmmmm" I say, I start to day dream, "Sami, Sami, Sami I say out loud. Then I sit upright in the bed, I gasp, a memory, a flash back. Oh no, a surprised look on my face. The DJ, opps, some parts of me just will never change. I guess it’s a case of once a bad girl always a bad girl.
Oz,x
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Graduation - Madam Oz
Procrastination is no safe place for an active mind. I felt like a cliff jumper, standing a ledge, just dam side sexier then my competitors. I had tormented myself by having sold my soul to just about everyone barring the devil himself, but then again who knows. Names and Faces just slip into the background very quickly. Hello's and you were awesome are often met with blank stares.
I had a small band of girls, hand picked, not enough, my hearted wanted a release, but my professional attitude was telling me its time to jump, open the business, pinch your nose Ozzie, launch yourself into a pike position and hope the splash is good.
I was sitting on the concrete bridge railing, the water flowing gently beneath me, rhythmically tapping my nails on the rail, looking to my left into the main hall at Sinsity. A Part of me realises that it’s much easier sometimes to just dance in someones club, but that is road heading in the wrong direction for me.
I had battled insecurities, been called some of the darnedest names, may as well have them tattooed on my cute bum, some of them i deserved. Their is no halo above my head, and i do think my blood looks black. I look at the shiny poles reflecting the early morning sun and feel nostalgic, I had graduated. Sami had returned, she freely admitted she half expected to return only to find out I had committed suicide. In some of my more unbalanced moments it would have been so easy to do, the right mix of drugs and alcohol would be so easy.
Yet my last drug fuelled rage, the car on Wardour St, time in hospital and the departure from the Soho seemed too had changed me. It gave me the chance to stop look around notice all the people around me that actually care about my sanity.
I hop off the rail, walk gracefully toward the ramp leading up into the main hall, I realise, I have a club to open, I had my seven lessons, I have my friends, I have my Sami, and most of all I have myself.
Oz,x
I had a small band of girls, hand picked, not enough, my hearted wanted a release, but my professional attitude was telling me its time to jump, open the business, pinch your nose Ozzie, launch yourself into a pike position and hope the splash is good.
I was sitting on the concrete bridge railing, the water flowing gently beneath me, rhythmically tapping my nails on the rail, looking to my left into the main hall at Sinsity. A Part of me realises that it’s much easier sometimes to just dance in someones club, but that is road heading in the wrong direction for me.
I had battled insecurities, been called some of the darnedest names, may as well have them tattooed on my cute bum, some of them i deserved. Their is no halo above my head, and i do think my blood looks black. I look at the shiny poles reflecting the early morning sun and feel nostalgic, I had graduated. Sami had returned, she freely admitted she half expected to return only to find out I had committed suicide. In some of my more unbalanced moments it would have been so easy to do, the right mix of drugs and alcohol would be so easy.
Yet my last drug fuelled rage, the car on Wardour St, time in hospital and the departure from the Soho seemed too had changed me. It gave me the chance to stop look around notice all the people around me that actually care about my sanity.
I hop off the rail, walk gracefully toward the ramp leading up into the main hall, I realise, I have a club to open, I had my seven lessons, I have my friends, I have my Sami, and most of all I have myself.
Oz,x
Monday, September 21, 2009
The Midnight Sun
The Crickly Crackly sound of burning tinder wasn't going to last much longer. My firebug friend was searching through her arsenal of fire starters, in the blink of an eye and to the sound of a mighty voompa Ava was going to light this stack of wood into a fireball that would light up the night sky with a reddy glow.
The waves gently slipped onto the beach, the gentle sound massaging my mind, that and a string of chemicals. I may as well have been floating as I lay with my head resting on a small log a safe distance from the bonfire.
I was easing into my new role managing the Sinsity Brothel, hiring new girls is not as interesting as it sounds, somewhat taxing on the nerves would be a better description. Rare moments to spend time with my inner circle of friends is always cherished and never missed. Hard to imagine but yes I do have them.
These are a collection of people that are more than deserving of the best of me having endured the worst of me. Tonight it was two friends, the three of us were like jigsaw pieces, slightly different but yet together we fit nicely somehow, though at first sight you'd wonder why.
Ava with the contrast of black leather, blonde hair, the wild and sleek looking exterior was merely a vessel for a heart of gold. The other a sweet looking Neko, a friend you kind of have on an elastic band, her pointy lil ears and soft tail, sweet was a very apt description and perfect name.
My Sunglasses were little protection not from the midnight sun that was now lit in front of me but the cheeky and fast moving fingers of Ava, poking me in the eye.
Her way of keeping me focused, with a quick gentle slap the sunglasses would be moved and gentle poke, I would be awake.
Revenge was often sweeter for me though, it came in the form of a giant felt tip marker pen. It was obscured from view; none the less if I managed to stay awake long enough both would be the proud owner of new tattoos. Nothing was sacred for me; they wouldn’t expect anything less from me.
The stars twinkled, the wood crackled and I could feel the intense heat of the fire. My two friends by my side, my mind drifting off I had a collection of girls I had recruited, but my previous experience was acting as brake, slowing me from accelerating too quickly into my new role.
I was using this time to re-energise and a bonfire with close friends at the end of a long beach under on a night like this was the perfect setting. Sooner or later I knew I would be fronted with that feeling, the same feeling u get standing on the edge of a cliff looking down at the calm water of a deep and wide rocky pool. Those nervous moments you get before jumping into the deep water.
One person was noticeably missing; I was like a delicious nut sundae without a beautiful Cherrie, incomplete. My time with Sami was short and had become all too infrequent. She knew I had parted company with my former employer. Our last contact was a quick note, "now we will have more time for one another, Love Sami".
She was the perfect foil for me, I had come to realise that it was her steady hand of love that set me into the balance needed to walk the line of confidence. I was counting the days, till my heart would be warmed again by her presence, hoping it wouldn’t progress into weeks.
Lying in the sand, the stars, the crackling wood, sweet massaging my feet, my mind was wandering, my eyes getting heavy. Then "slap","tickle","bump","giggle", probing hands as I writhed around on the sand, then "Cheeky Bitches", I said.
The Edge I had was gone, Ava was now standing a few metres away, and Sweet was smirking to herself. Teamwork is a bitch sometimes, my felt tip marker pen firmly in her grasp. I had only one defence from retribution now, staying awake.
Sitting up on the beach, arms folded, my companions giggling to themselves I look at the empty bottle of wine I had buried in the sand, I was in for a long nite.
Lucky I love them loads, Oz.
The waves gently slipped onto the beach, the gentle sound massaging my mind, that and a string of chemicals. I may as well have been floating as I lay with my head resting on a small log a safe distance from the bonfire.
I was easing into my new role managing the Sinsity Brothel, hiring new girls is not as interesting as it sounds, somewhat taxing on the nerves would be a better description. Rare moments to spend time with my inner circle of friends is always cherished and never missed. Hard to imagine but yes I do have them.
These are a collection of people that are more than deserving of the best of me having endured the worst of me. Tonight it was two friends, the three of us were like jigsaw pieces, slightly different but yet together we fit nicely somehow, though at first sight you'd wonder why.
Ava with the contrast of black leather, blonde hair, the wild and sleek looking exterior was merely a vessel for a heart of gold. The other a sweet looking Neko, a friend you kind of have on an elastic band, her pointy lil ears and soft tail, sweet was a very apt description and perfect name.
My Sunglasses were little protection not from the midnight sun that was now lit in front of me but the cheeky and fast moving fingers of Ava, poking me in the eye.
Her way of keeping me focused, with a quick gentle slap the sunglasses would be moved and gentle poke, I would be awake.
Revenge was often sweeter for me though, it came in the form of a giant felt tip marker pen. It was obscured from view; none the less if I managed to stay awake long enough both would be the proud owner of new tattoos. Nothing was sacred for me; they wouldn’t expect anything less from me.
The stars twinkled, the wood crackled and I could feel the intense heat of the fire. My two friends by my side, my mind drifting off I had a collection of girls I had recruited, but my previous experience was acting as brake, slowing me from accelerating too quickly into my new role.
I was using this time to re-energise and a bonfire with close friends at the end of a long beach under on a night like this was the perfect setting. Sooner or later I knew I would be fronted with that feeling, the same feeling u get standing on the edge of a cliff looking down at the calm water of a deep and wide rocky pool. Those nervous moments you get before jumping into the deep water.
One person was noticeably missing; I was like a delicious nut sundae without a beautiful Cherrie, incomplete. My time with Sami was short and had become all too infrequent. She knew I had parted company with my former employer. Our last contact was a quick note, "now we will have more time for one another, Love Sami".
She was the perfect foil for me, I had come to realise that it was her steady hand of love that set me into the balance needed to walk the line of confidence. I was counting the days, till my heart would be warmed again by her presence, hoping it wouldn’t progress into weeks.
Lying in the sand, the stars, the crackling wood, sweet massaging my feet, my mind was wandering, my eyes getting heavy. Then "slap","tickle","bump","giggle", probing hands as I writhed around on the sand, then "Cheeky Bitches", I said.
The Edge I had was gone, Ava was now standing a few metres away, and Sweet was smirking to herself. Teamwork is a bitch sometimes, my felt tip marker pen firmly in her grasp. I had only one defence from retribution now, staying awake.
Sitting up on the beach, arms folded, my companions giggling to themselves I look at the empty bottle of wine I had buried in the sand, I was in for a long nite.
Lucky I love them loads, Oz.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Seven Lesson's
The mid afternoon sun was starting to make my skin feel a lil hot as I lay on the reclined pool deck chair. I was relaxing on the roof of the Sinsity Mansion by the pool. The fully reclined deck chair allowed me to lie on my tummy.
My open writing journal was in front of me. I picked up the sun lotion and applied the layer to my already tan skin. The security guard stood still to my right, never flinching, but his sunglasses did nothing to hide his stare.
Wiping my hands on my towel I resumed my comfortable position in front of my journal and picked up my pen. Here I was being offered the role of Sinsity manager. A lavish island complete with residents, dance club, rooms, picturesque beaches, and a large marble finished resort style complex. It had thousands of VIP's, visitors to the island fluctuated had reduced from 700 down to 200.
I was being asked to re-establish the brothel, after my last experience I was unsure. However here I was enjoying the warm sun in quiet pleasant surroundings. I had two body guards on the front door of the mansion and another big burly guy dressed in a black suite holding a machine gun to my right.
I started to scribble notes on my writing pad, I needed to verbalise to myself what went wrong for me, what lessons did I learn. I took myself to the brink of insanity; I needed to learn from the experience. The place had all the look and feel of potential.
It mesmerized everyone who I gave a tour; its careful attention to detail was a testament to the architects of it, a true talent. I was initially there to help establish the place. I saw myself as like the club mum. Someone to nurture young talent give them confidence leaving the management to others.
As the club's doors opened I had girls working, for the shift two managers, I had a sense of emotional attachment to the place.
Lesson number one - keep the emotional attachment to a minimum.
As days wore on, I sensed increasing friction between me and one of the shift managers. I learnt quickly I was dealing with the CEO's partner. This wasn't going to be easy. I was later to be reminded by her that she was also my boss’s sister in law. I was dealing with family. Confrontation was inevitable it was me or her and she left or so it seemed.
I then resumed after much hesitation the role I was avoiding "General Manager". My approach was to lead by example, dancing, working with the staff, creating a fun and interesting place to work. I had two girls operating as shift managers; I sensed the seeds of emotional distress.
I wanted stability in management something I never obtained, without asking I knew something was wrong, I knew these two were emotionally attached to each other.
My careful use of intelligence and charm could see what was occurring. When one committed virtual suicide I knew the other would disappear, which was best for her to do.
Lesson number two - Hire Managers you can trust, you require loyalty.
I was all for not standing in the way of letting talent shine, I saw that in someone and gave her the opportunity. I still had one position left un-tendered. There were girls willing to step up; I was receiving offers from within.
Some inexperienced but all to keen to show their potential, I wanted someone who could work with my new shift manager. I had two choices; I also had the choice of a male manager with loads of experience but all to hard to catch. I was bouncing ideas and options around in my head, inviting my own manager and my staff inside it.
Lesson Number three - learn to be emotional intelligent.
Still with a vacant shift management position and having two girls keen on the remaining position I gave them a task each. One girl had the desire but lacked experience so I tasked her understanding what traffic is, how to be obtain it and how to we manage it.
The other was a stickler for rules and warned she would keep people to them. My experience was that rules are necessary but some flexibility on both parts is required. So I tasked her with the generation of a code of conduct.
In the blink of an eye one morning I woke to read the local paper to see oh no bad publicity. What transpired were stress, back room discussions, private conversations, and the support of the company or council of sorts questionable. It was now go it alone we had no community support. Our counter was to bring music to the place.
Lesson Number four - Know your Master.
Then disaster struck I was immobilised by an illness I was virtually hospitalised. I knew my task would become difficult now. My intuition that had sometimes guided me also had the potential to generate insecurities. Sometimes I could use these intuitive feelings that were hardly ever wrong, sometimes I knew there was really nothing I could do. It was a warning a sign.
I knew I would be out of action for a while, three weeks at best, I knew that with position I was in , unable to dance, spend time in the club, get the feel of the place and feel the vibe I knew I wouldn’t last.
My insecurities manifested itself at first with a barrage of "fire me",” I quit'". My Insecurities also allow my heroin like addictions to surface and take hold of me. My manager as lovely as she was saw this side of me.
In my solitude I was desiring attention, I was born on a stage I had a thirst for attention. The lack of it fuelled my insecurities even further. I tried a new manager and let her go just as quick; I sensed behind her "I know it all attitudes" was disloyalty.
I had one good shift manager, and in the blink of an eye was forced to accept another. I took my two shift managers and gave them the opportunity to back out; I asked whether they would work together, stability is what I needed. I was reassured but I knew it wouldn’t work; the tension between them was too much, I sensed it.
Lesson Number Five – Ensure you have role Definition with your manager
Within a few days my intuition was right, one offered I accepted and she left. Then my manager seemingly disappeared due to personal trauma. A quick chat to the CEO's wife, I now felt exposed alone without support, I had that with my manager.
I had one good shift manager, and was starting to receive reports of an aspect of her behaviour that needed correction, I ignored it.
I knew my days would be numbered now, here I was forcing the issue, and there was no business to be usual about. The money in the tip jars was at an all time low, our events failed, the girls stopped working. I wasn't able to lead still a week or more away from dancing being virtual hospitalised.
I was surrounded by the CEO and his key managers, I had my moment to speak, right then I had a call from Sami, I ignored her, our time together had become sparse. I shut my mouth, bit my lip, I knew I would take the fall soon.
I finally mustered the courage to say something to my remaining shift manager about her behaviour. I knew she would be upset, I misjudged by how much. With my manager momentarily by my side I gave the message. The reaction was at first as expected "I quit" nothing I couldn’t work with, a confident Ozzie seemingly no where to be seen would work her charm.
Within minutes I was contacted by the CEO's wife, she had a file on me, a list of complaints she'd obtained and now she had an employee threatening legal action, she had been busy in the background and now had everything she needed.
Lesson Number Six - Know your enemies and keep them close.
I now knew I would be fired before I woke up the next day. I set the wheels in motion, gave my remaining staff some much needed organisation, we established a nite of events.
The result paid off, we had our best nite yet, still I was waiting for the hammer, I gave my lovely manager the opportunity to release me, I knew the situation was out of her control, I knew should would fire me within hours, and I knew it would hurt.
A nudge on the bum broke my concentration. I had my six lessons, I also had my boss beside me, I knew my master well and I there was one lesson that I had learnt from him an perhaps the most important one of all.
Lesson number Seven – keep it fun.
My open writing journal was in front of me. I picked up the sun lotion and applied the layer to my already tan skin. The security guard stood still to my right, never flinching, but his sunglasses did nothing to hide his stare.
Wiping my hands on my towel I resumed my comfortable position in front of my journal and picked up my pen. Here I was being offered the role of Sinsity manager. A lavish island complete with residents, dance club, rooms, picturesque beaches, and a large marble finished resort style complex. It had thousands of VIP's, visitors to the island fluctuated had reduced from 700 down to 200.
I was being asked to re-establish the brothel, after my last experience I was unsure. However here I was enjoying the warm sun in quiet pleasant surroundings. I had two body guards on the front door of the mansion and another big burly guy dressed in a black suite holding a machine gun to my right.
I started to scribble notes on my writing pad, I needed to verbalise to myself what went wrong for me, what lessons did I learn. I took myself to the brink of insanity; I needed to learn from the experience. The place had all the look and feel of potential.
It mesmerized everyone who I gave a tour; its careful attention to detail was a testament to the architects of it, a true talent. I was initially there to help establish the place. I saw myself as like the club mum. Someone to nurture young talent give them confidence leaving the management to others.
As the club's doors opened I had girls working, for the shift two managers, I had a sense of emotional attachment to the place.
Lesson number one - keep the emotional attachment to a minimum.
As days wore on, I sensed increasing friction between me and one of the shift managers. I learnt quickly I was dealing with the CEO's partner. This wasn't going to be easy. I was later to be reminded by her that she was also my boss’s sister in law. I was dealing with family. Confrontation was inevitable it was me or her and she left or so it seemed.
I then resumed after much hesitation the role I was avoiding "General Manager". My approach was to lead by example, dancing, working with the staff, creating a fun and interesting place to work. I had two girls operating as shift managers; I sensed the seeds of emotional distress.
I wanted stability in management something I never obtained, without asking I knew something was wrong, I knew these two were emotionally attached to each other.
My careful use of intelligence and charm could see what was occurring. When one committed virtual suicide I knew the other would disappear, which was best for her to do.
Lesson number two - Hire Managers you can trust, you require loyalty.
I was all for not standing in the way of letting talent shine, I saw that in someone and gave her the opportunity. I still had one position left un-tendered. There were girls willing to step up; I was receiving offers from within.
Some inexperienced but all to keen to show their potential, I wanted someone who could work with my new shift manager. I had two choices; I also had the choice of a male manager with loads of experience but all to hard to catch. I was bouncing ideas and options around in my head, inviting my own manager and my staff inside it.
Lesson Number three - learn to be emotional intelligent.
Still with a vacant shift management position and having two girls keen on the remaining position I gave them a task each. One girl had the desire but lacked experience so I tasked her understanding what traffic is, how to be obtain it and how to we manage it.
The other was a stickler for rules and warned she would keep people to them. My experience was that rules are necessary but some flexibility on both parts is required. So I tasked her with the generation of a code of conduct.
In the blink of an eye one morning I woke to read the local paper to see oh no bad publicity. What transpired were stress, back room discussions, private conversations, and the support of the company or council of sorts questionable. It was now go it alone we had no community support. Our counter was to bring music to the place.
Lesson Number four - Know your Master.
Then disaster struck I was immobilised by an illness I was virtually hospitalised. I knew my task would become difficult now. My intuition that had sometimes guided me also had the potential to generate insecurities. Sometimes I could use these intuitive feelings that were hardly ever wrong, sometimes I knew there was really nothing I could do. It was a warning a sign.
I knew I would be out of action for a while, three weeks at best, I knew that with position I was in , unable to dance, spend time in the club, get the feel of the place and feel the vibe I knew I wouldn’t last.
My insecurities manifested itself at first with a barrage of "fire me",” I quit'". My Insecurities also allow my heroin like addictions to surface and take hold of me. My manager as lovely as she was saw this side of me.
In my solitude I was desiring attention, I was born on a stage I had a thirst for attention. The lack of it fuelled my insecurities even further. I tried a new manager and let her go just as quick; I sensed behind her "I know it all attitudes" was disloyalty.
I had one good shift manager, and in the blink of an eye was forced to accept another. I took my two shift managers and gave them the opportunity to back out; I asked whether they would work together, stability is what I needed. I was reassured but I knew it wouldn’t work; the tension between them was too much, I sensed it.
Lesson Number Five – Ensure you have role Definition with your manager
Within a few days my intuition was right, one offered I accepted and she left. Then my manager seemingly disappeared due to personal trauma. A quick chat to the CEO's wife, I now felt exposed alone without support, I had that with my manager.
I had one good shift manager, and was starting to receive reports of an aspect of her behaviour that needed correction, I ignored it.
I knew my days would be numbered now, here I was forcing the issue, and there was no business to be usual about. The money in the tip jars was at an all time low, our events failed, the girls stopped working. I wasn't able to lead still a week or more away from dancing being virtual hospitalised.
I was surrounded by the CEO and his key managers, I had my moment to speak, right then I had a call from Sami, I ignored her, our time together had become sparse. I shut my mouth, bit my lip, I knew I would take the fall soon.
I finally mustered the courage to say something to my remaining shift manager about her behaviour. I knew she would be upset, I misjudged by how much. With my manager momentarily by my side I gave the message. The reaction was at first as expected "I quit" nothing I couldn’t work with, a confident Ozzie seemingly no where to be seen would work her charm.
Within minutes I was contacted by the CEO's wife, she had a file on me, a list of complaints she'd obtained and now she had an employee threatening legal action, she had been busy in the background and now had everything she needed.
Lesson Number Six - Know your enemies and keep them close.
I now knew I would be fired before I woke up the next day. I set the wheels in motion, gave my remaining staff some much needed organisation, we established a nite of events.
The result paid off, we had our best nite yet, still I was waiting for the hammer, I gave my lovely manager the opportunity to release me, I knew the situation was out of her control, I knew should would fire me within hours, and I knew it would hurt.
A nudge on the bum broke my concentration. I had my six lessons, I also had my boss beside me, I knew my master well and I there was one lesson that I had learnt from him an perhaps the most important one of all.
Lesson number Seven – keep it fun.
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