Horizontal Lives

True Tales of the Infamous Courtesan: Persephone N. Hades and her Horizontal Life underground. How she got there, her mis-adventures and her struggle to re-surface.

Thursday, May 19, 2005

Geisha's Summer Camp For Cocks

As you probably guessed from my lack of Blogs,
I have been drowning in the Tidal Wave of Real Life.
(Otherwise stated as ‘Life Above Ground’)

Thankfully, Business has picked up tremendously.

I attribute this to two elements:
1. January through April is always slow until after Taxes, Easter and Passover. And now it’s May.

(“It’s May! It’s May! The Lusty Month of May! The time for every Whim, Proper or Im---“)

2. Luciano’s photos of me, now new on my website has motivated ‘past, and absent clients’ to take a new look-see.

(Luciano is such a Genius that I don’t even recognize my plain old self in his stunning renditions of me.)

(In fact, I asked him to follow me around in my daily life with his Lighting Magic so I might look just as alluring every moment of every regular day.)

(Can that be done?)

(I’m sure Nicole Kidman does it.)

(Maybe even Ms. Streisand and Ms. Oprah.)

That being said, I have time for just a quick Blip.

I have been mentioning to all my over-worked, stressed, A-Type personality Clients of late,
My Grandiose Idea:

(If you have been following, you know I am moving and a little money-tight.
So, being enterprising, I figure, for one Flat Fee—)

Geisha’s Summer Camp for Cocks:

Here’s how it would work:

I think all Men, exhausted and who must work, nose-to-grindstone throughout the summer months,
should simply detach their Cocks—

(Whom we all know are separate members of the ‘family’ already,)

--And leave them with me for a Summer of Fun, Exercise and Frolic, at,
(And I’ll say it again,)
Geisha’s Summer Camp for Cocks.

I mean, why should the Penises suffer?
They don’t have to work on the Trading Floor.
They don’t have to close deals.
They don’t have anything to do 5am-11pm.

Except maybe, Pee.
Every now and then.

(Every now and then because it has been my experience that Men have bladders the size of an SUV.
As opposed to Women, who seem to have bladders the size of a small Pistachio nut.)

At my Summer Camp,
They relax, meet others, get pampered---
They can Swim, Climb my ‘two mountains’, Learn social skill such as how to get along with other Boys,
And by the end of the Summer, when the Boy is picked up in September,
He’ll be well rested, invigorated, and just Spitting with Life.

Weekly phone calls are allowed, of course.
And as I mentioned in Blogs previous, I speak fluent Penis so I would be able to help in the translation of any letters or calls home.

One Client objected, due to his own perceived lack of ‘proportion’ of his Cock’s Size.
Stating, because of this, he was worried his Member Child would be picked on by the other ‘Boys’.

I responded, The Camp and it’s Main Supervisor (Me) and any other invited ‘Counselors’, (My sexy Friends) would keep an eye on the issue to make sure any competition was Healthy; Based on Merit, on Action and on Performance rather than Physical Stature.
Ego and Pride would be respected and nourished thereby enhancing self-confidence.
And of course, learning.
Learning that size only matters in relation to body chemistry.
An important lesson all Cocks need to internalize.
In my humble opinion.

There would also be courses taught throughout the Summer with a requirement to attend the most important and mandatory dealing in Listening. Listed on my syllabus as:
“Penis Listen and Respond to Vagina 101”.
Other courses include:
“Entire Body Erogenous Zones 101.”
“Giving Your Ego a Valium—how and when. 101”
“When and when not to Mutiny the Upper Head 101”
“Slow First. Fast Later. 101”
“God exists in a Woman’s Body. 301” (Higher Course for Advanced Campers)
“Learning to say “Goodbye.” Learning to say, “I’m Sorry”. Learning that taking responsibility is a ‘good thing’. Learning that stepping on the garbage can pedal is not the only way. 201”
(Also for Advanced Campers.)

I also declared that the Gentlemen who are amazing Lovers already,
there by ranking them in the ‘Geisha Five Star Alliance’,
(Of which, at present there is only a handful, as regretfully this is a small, exclusive membership),
should don a series of tattoos of Five Stars:
One tiny star on the inside base of each of the five fingers on their left hand that cannot be seen unless they spread their fingers like a duck’s webbed foot.

This should be an International symbol that not only have they been exclusive members of the Summer Camp, but that they are remarkable Lovers—being in a group of maybe twenty in a poll of, oh, say, maybe, 300,000
(thousand)
(or more?)
(YIKES!)
(That must be the case as every dollar of my apartment was paid for Penis-to-Mouth-or-Vagina, and my apartment costs more than 300,000.)

And when these ‘Five Star Members’ meet a woman they care to be with but feel intimidated by,
they will be able to subtlety spread their fingers enough to give the prospective woman a glance at their Five Stars and BOOM!
The woman knows.
She knows.
And now is not only in awe but desirous to have a go at him herself.
Since he has been ‘Certified’.
Like the Zagat’s of Sexual Acumen.

Perhaps, depending on the number of Penises detached and enrolled; I shall have to call on my friend Electra to help oversee the Camp.

I think it would be good.
I think it would be great.

One problem:
How to talk Men into detaching their Penises.
Especially for an entire Summer.

Sigh.
Nevermind.
That was ‘Plan B’ anyway.

I’ll let you know if I have any ‘takers’.
In the meantime,
I suppose I’m back to ‘Plan A’.

In the meantime, because of all the soot covering my walls, with the help of a friend and ex-lover, we spent a grueling weekend, from 9am to 1am, painting my ‘work’ apartment.
And uh-oh.
And Oh god!
I’m not sure what happened, actually.
When I saw the color on the little card, it looked so serene.
But after a few brush strokes—
Oh my god!
My love nest is now a painful shade of needle-on-a-nerve electric blue, thus putting me back in the position of having to work twice as Dramatically Horizontally to distract from the vibrations emanating from the walls.

(Are you getting the idea I need an assistant who tells me ‘no’, and then directs me to more reasonable decisions?)
(If your answer was ‘Yes’, you are correct.)

Oh, so right.
(Since enrollment may be sparse due to Men’s selfishness and lack of desire to part with their Penises even for the betterment of the whole and even if only for a elated Summer.)
Back to ‘Plan A’.

‘Plan A’?
Hugging, Kissing, Listening, Loving.
Two hours at a time.

P.S. Thanks for indulging me.
I’ve been working since 8 a.m.
It is now 1 a.m.
For sustenance today, I began with a ‘whore’s breakfast. (A Glass of Champagne before food, water or coffee.)
Continued the day, (as I was three times booked) on Squashed Grapes,
And concluded with the same Spirits with which I began.
All this to say,
I may be missing a few brain cells as I write this.

(Do I remind you of the filmmaker ‘Wim Wenders’ who does not see his artistic crime in not editing and simply enjoys, as an artistic exhibitionist, masturbating all over the screen?)

My Clients indulge me in this flotsam and jetsam banter,
Mainly because they know they will be rewarded during the second hour.
But You indulging me?
Well that’s just Altruistic.


1 Comments:

At 9:03 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hurray Hurray
the first of MAY
outdoor f**king
begins today

 

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