Tying up lose threads

Victoria’s Secret Model Doutzen Kroes Pregnant! Oops?


Plastic surgeon dies in car accident: In my entry for August 7, 2010 entitled Therapy with Mack the Knife I wrote about some of my therapy sessions under the knife with a reconstructive surgeon who liked to cut rubber suits off his female partners. He missed two therapy sessions with me so I called his psychiatrist (who I was assisting on his case) to find out where the patient was. The shrink had been on vacation in Europe for three weeks and apologized that no one on his staff knew that I was assisting so didn’t know to tell me that the patient had driven off the road and over a cliff and was killed several weeks ago. I guess that explains why he missed our appointments. In the few times we were together he must have cut at least $6,000 worth of Sailfish wetsuits off me. It was a form of foreplay for him and he was amazing in bed after he cut me out of a Sailfish. Sigh!

I still have three new Sailfish wetsuits that we never got to use. Three weren’t enough for a single afternoon of therapy so I was looking forward to him taking me shopping for sailfish again. It wasn’t as though we didn’t know what size I took. It was the thrill of him groping me in public as he ‘helped’ me into and out of the wonderfully tight German neoprene that we both enjoyed. The looks on the shop assistants faces were priceless as they watched us in the wall mirrors – and one was even filming our reflection in the mirrors with her smart phone - as he inserted two fingers inside me and nearly made me come while supposedly adjusting my crotch. And we did that for every suit and bought at least six each time we went shopping. I think their sales increased by 5% in the few weeks we shopped there. I’m expecting an attempt at blackmail from the girl with the phone-cam because while all the wetsuits were paid for with a corporate CC they were shipped to me so she knows my name and where I live. If she had known who he was the pics would have probably ended up in a tabloid, since I think they are probably too explicit for People Magazine.

Natasha’s eggs: In my entry for July 11, 2010 I mentioned the possibility of harvesting my Russian dancer’s eggs to pay off her gambling debts which I bought to get her to dance for me here in Vegas. I thought we had moved closer to making that happen by having her DNA tested for suitability. No problem I thought since she is a gorgeous woman. How wrong I was! It has taken weeks to have her DNA tested for mutant genes that cause breast cancer, autism, MS and a long list of genetic defects that can, but not always do, appear in carriers. Sadly Natasha’s eggs are not of harvesting quality. Actually, if I were her, I would have my tubes blocked to make certain I had no children. So at this point I’m looking for other ways to make my money back with her. She is still a powerful draw on stage as her erotic classical ballet performances are hugely popular with the high rollers especially the Asians - who fantasize about having gorgeous round eyed Russian ballet dancers as mistresses - go wild at the tables just to get a seat in the auditorium. Perhaps that’s enough. At the current rate I will have my money back in about four months anyway. I was just hoping to speed things up a bit.

Ginny and rubber lust: The 19 y/o Who came out for the St Lucy’s Ballet SI (in June and early July) and who developed rubber lust and stayed the rest of the summer has returned to college on the east coast. I was amazed that her father was as accommodating with her desires as he was, but that made things easier for me. Returning readers will remember I found her a gig as Adolph’s Pool Assistant and latex arm-candy while Abi was recovering from a YI – see my post for July 10, 2010 – and God knows that broadened Ginny’s sexual experiences and her circle of rubber fetish friends immensely! She wanted to stay and transfer to UNLV, but Abi has fully recovered and is back as Adolph’s number one girl and Ginny’s father wanted her back in school on the east coast so she left last week.

As a going-away present she was cluster-fucked by Adolph and four of his closest German friends. It took them three hours to finish with her and I don’t think she could have enjoyed anything more! It will be an encounter she will remember fondly all her life! Actually she finished them. The men were exhausted and even with performance enhancing chemicals they couldn’t mount her any more. She told me later that she was determined to out last her lovers and she did! She could hardly walk the next day and is on 800 mg of ibuprofen every six hours for the next few days until her muscles stop cramping. I upgraded her ticket to first class and she wore a pad since she will be draining German sperm for days. She has amazing pelvic stamina for a 19 y/o and wants to come back next summer. All her lovers had been screened and were free of STIs and fortunately at my insistence she had a GyneFix implanted so she should be quite safe. If she still wants to work in Vegas next summer I’m sure I can find her something she will like and be good at.

Jihadi women divers

Dead Aryan trainer pulled from pool

How I spent my 4th of July evening: I was called to help with cleanup after what was certainly a professional hit. I was told it was a big job and that I could take Taryn and Beth to help with cleanup and we took the van. They were right, it was a huge mess! There were eight bodies, seven women and a man. Five of the women were young Muslims in drysuits and SCUBA sets (their western street clothes and purses were in a bedroom that they were using as a dressing room) and two were blonde Aryans (trainers) also in drysuits. The man was in street clothes and appeared to be Persian. The five Muslim women and a Caucasian trainer were dead in the swimming pool where it looked to me like they had been training. The student’s drysuits had burst or were punctured and their bodies crushed while their trainer had been shot in the back of her head and then was pushed or had fallen into the pool because her air hadn’t been turned on and her drysuit was still intact so she was floating face up on the surface. I took pics before we began cleanup and Anya, who seems to know a lot about this sort of thing, said it seemed to her that someone had tossed a concussion grenade into the midst of the students while they were clustered around one with a cutting torch who had been cutting through a piece of heavy metal grillwork.

Overpressure shock on divers: She said that a standard US MK3A2 concussion grenade (if that’s what it was) has 8 oz of TNT in it and the explosion created a shockwave in the water that crushed anyone in the pool instantaneously, cracked the pool walls and threw a huge amount of water out of the pool. The pool furniture and everything around the pool was still soaked when we got there. Since water is not compressible the soft tissue of a human body surrounded by water gets pulped when an underwater explosion occurs nearby. The bodies were grotesque. They had lung tissue coming out of their mouths and noses, their faces had been crushed and flattened into their masks, their chests and skulls were crushed and their necks broken by the blast. And since the intestines had burst the pool looked and smelled like a sewer. We had to wear HASMAT drysuits and FFMs to collect the bodies and parts off the bottom. Later, when we cut off their drysuits their uteri and intestines were trailing from their groins. It must have been over very quickly for them, but it was one of the messiest cleanups that I’ve ever been involved with. Anya said concussion grenades are used to clear bunkers w/o much shrapnel since the case is tarred paper and that the MK3A2 has an effective casualty radius in open areas of 2 meters so it is perfect for killing divers in a swimming pool where the water acts as a pressure multiplier. We are guessing the European trainer came in to the pool area just before the grenade was dropped and was popped with a silenced 22 before she could sound the alarm. I always find it amazing how little a small caliber execution shot through the back of the head bleeds.

Jihadi mischief: The other Caucasian trainer and the man were in a bedroom that seemed to have been used as an office of sorts and there was evidence that a computer was missing. The woman had a lovely figure and was nearly out of her drysuit which was in a pile around her legs. She was wearing a bikini top and a rubber hood and had her bikini thong in her hand. She was bent over a table with the outer ring of an FC2 protruding from between her labia. The man had his pants off and was wearing a cock ring which explained why he was still erect after being shot through the back of his head. The woman was dead from a bullet through her rubber hood into her left temple. We think the man and woman in the office were probably shot first with the small caliber gun that killed the trainer in the pool area. A silenced .22 is a great weapon for up-close executions because it makes hardly any noise and the bullet doesn’t come out the other side and make a mess.

Cerazette; fundamentalist protection in a secular world: All the women’s and the man’s ID had been taken and the contents of women’s purses was dumped on the floor. It seems most of the students were using Cerazette, a popular European progestin-only-pill as there were four partial pill-packs on the floor. So I guess they had blended into the Vegas social scene of recreational sex. Cerazette has none of the estrogen side effects: larger, sensitive breasts and the increased possibility of strokes and can be taken up to 12 hours late w/o decreasing its effectiveness, so after sterilization Cerazette may be the pill of choice for female jahadis undercover in our secular society.

The training site was a house in the Spring Mountains west of town and is isolated on thirty acres of land and way back off the road. It had been rented furnished while the owners are traveling overseas. It turned out that the place is owned by the brother of one of the local bosses, which is why the Families got me involved. It was a fresh hit that was found by the driver of a truck delivering full SCUBA tanks to the address. The gas company is owned by a well connected local businessman and he passed the word to a friend in the Family and their dispatcher called me. The Family is steamed because they think that the government hit a terrorist cell and didn’t clean up afterward. I think the word is out now that no Family member is to rent out their home while out of town.

We burned the drysuits in the incinerator used to destroy medical waste from the clinic and rubber products from our escort and ancillary services and waste from Gepettos custom fetishwear shops that can’t be recycled. It’s amazing how much latex is used on a daily basis in the Vegas sex trade. It’s not a good idea for a guy to leave his fresh DNA around in a used condom because someone with a wicked sense of humor could make him a father w/o his having the pleasure of physically knowing the mother of his baby.

Beth comes through: I’m impressed with how well Beth handled her part of the cleanup what with it being a relatively new and extremely messy experience for her. We put Vicks VapoRub in our nostrils and suited up before entering the pool area because there were already a lot of flies attracted by the bloody water that was puddled on the pool surround. Still the stench was oppressive and even Taryn turned a little green, so Beth working like collecting body parts was normal for her was amazing. Over breakfast after the cleanup Beth, Taryn and I wondered what the women were training for. Anya seems to think that they were planning an event at a local dam, the one that has Lake Mead behind it, because she thinks the grillwork that they were learning to cut is similar to what is used to protect the input pipes for the turbines. That sort of thing would be a suicide mission if the turbine inputs were opened while they were working on the grills because the current would be so strong that it would suck the diver against the grill with no possibility of her getting free.

If Sal was still around and this had happened in NYC there would have been a special ingredient added to the sausage in a plant he owned. Here we make do with a wood chipper and a quicklime pit. If this was a sanctioned hit the powers in Vegas wish they would have cleaned up the mess rather than leaving it to get reported in the media. Unless the organization that paid for the hit wanted it reported.

A beavertail designed for love

3 mm smooth black neoprene beavertail jacket

A new beavertail design: Gepetto’s designers have asked me (and I had Taryn included) to help test a new beavertail wetsuit jacket designed for shock and awe as well as ease of use during dive-sex. It’s an adaptation of the classic wetsuit design from the 60s and 70s, but with the advantage of modern thermal protection and materials. It can be purchased as a two piece vintage style beavertail sports wetsuit with separate jacket and trousers. However, Gepetto’s marketing people expect the jacket to be the big seller because it’s designed to be worn separately; cut high in front to display the hips and pelvis while cupping the buttocks to prevent wedgies while the beavertail is securely locked in place, giving the wearer superior comfort and her partner complete access during penetrative sex. The nickel plated Twist Lock closures are padded so they can’t be felt by the wearer and the tail can be folded and slipped under the wearer’s tank out of the way when she is penetrated from behind.

Hypothermia: A reader asked why the girl who attacked and drowned her rival in the training pool [My entry, Death in a drysuit, for October 24, 2009] was wearing only a bikini when the water temperature at the bottom of the pool was in the low 60s and if hypothermia could have contributed to bikini-girl’s death. I don’t think anyone could know for sure why she was wearing only a bikini when her rival was in a drysuit. However, that suggests to me she took advantage of an available opportunity and her lack of thermal protection shows her attack was a spur of the moment thing when the opportunity presented itself with little or no premeditation. I think it’s entirely possible that hypothermia could have had something to do with her death. Some of the symptoms of hypothermia that she might have experienced include: Clumsiness or lack of coordination, Confusion or difficulty thinking, Poor decision making, Drowsiness or very low energy, Apathy, or lack of concern about one's condition, Progressive loss of consciousness. The water at the surface was in the mid 70s so I don’t think she had any idea beforehand what it would be like on the bottom with the circulator pumps off.

I think once she found out what conditions were at the bottom she tried to improvise. Pulling off her rivals mask and shutting off her air shows she realized she needed to insure her rival’s speedy death if she was going to have time to watch and by then she may have already misjudged her own condition and been experiencing symptoms of hypothermia and making bad judgments relative to her own survival. That probably accounts for her not filling her BCD – the first thing she should have done when she realized she was in trouble - and ascending to the surface the minute she felt nauseous. Immediate ascent might have saved her from drowning, but it wouldn’t have prevented her miscarriage which was caused by the water pressure, her exertion and excitement. She managed to avoid the routine pregnancy tests Escort trainees take before diving by being on special assignment as a pelvic training instructor at Gepettos Woman’s fitness gym. So we are changing the testing protocol to require trainees to test at least once a week even if they aren’t actively diving that week.

Shredding laces: I had an opportunity to test my new micro-bladed heels on my Pleasure boots the other night. [For more about micro-bladed heels see my October 18, 2009 entry] Robin and I were at a fetish club north of the Strip and there was this beautiful showgirl from another casino in a black latex encasement skin and a lovely pair of high quality ballet boots. She was looking for a hookup. She was about 5 inches taller than me and all tits and boots. Robin commented on how exotic she looked and I agreed, she has a spectacular figure though it looked to me as though it might have been silicone enhanced. And she was wearing a short plug pelvic shield for protection because she was menstrual and had a Diva inserted. I only know that because we were in the ladies room at the same time when she was emptying her Diva and she made several comments about how hot Robin was and I agreed letting her know he was with me. She said “well, honey he may have arrived with you, but I’m taking him home with me” Not a good direction for the conversation to be headed in, but then I think she had had just snorted a line or two of blow so she was feeling invincible. I just let it go and walked out and back to our table. I love the attention when everything stops as I walk across a busy room in my pleasure boots. It’s good publicity for Gepetto too even when women find out how much a pair cost and worse how difficult it is to get them. It’s worse than an outsider trying to buy a Birkin bag! I told Robin about the showgirl who wanted his body in her bed and he smiled and said “There is no one as tight as you are with me”. And I thought what a great line that could be taken so many ways, all of which were true; though I know he’s not really mine to keep, unless I was to agree to marry him.

Tits and boots: So Tits and boots came out of the Ladies and looks around. She spots me, or perhaps it was Robin she was looking for, and after stopping for a draft comes over to our table. I could tell that it was going to be a confrontation and if I was going to leave with my reputation untarnished I was going to have to do two things quickly. Let her provoke me to the point I could plausibly act in self defense and two do it fast enough that I could do what I needed to before club security could stop the fight. T&B hadn’t taken a sip from the beer in her hand when she got to our table and intentionally poured half of it down the front of my rubber encasement suit and said “Honey, why don’t you go out back and hose yourself off, you smell like a brewery”. I started to get up and she kicked at my breasts with her left boot. Dodging the platform and heel which could leave a nasty puncture wound I intentionally tipped my chair over backward. Fortunately the people at the next table had gotten up to dance so when I crashed into their chairs there was room for me to tumble and roll to my feet before T&B was on me. She had given me provocation for self defense so it was just a matter of taking her out. As she kicked at my breasts again this time with her right boot I stepped into her space and drove the heel of my left boot into and down through her laces of her left boot. I could hear the laces ‘ping’ as they were severed and knew she was wearing what are advertised as slash-proof laces. She said “what the fuck?” and began to totter as her ankle lost the support of her boot. I pulled my heel out of her shredded laces w/o puncturing her foot which I could have easily done while my heel was against the tongue of soft leather covering her vulnerable instep.

Checking her turnout: I was ready to stop, but high on coke she was all aggression and when she got her right leg on the floor and shifted her weight I stepped back. Her third kick to my breasts was with her left foot in the ruined boot. This time I sidestepped, caught the platform and heel in my hands as it was at the height of my shoulders and using the leverage the platform and heel gave me twisted her boot in a clockwise direction. Her foot was still completely in the boot so even with the laces split there was a tremendous amount of torque forcing her foot past the 90° of rotation considered perfect turnout. If done gradually over time and the turnout is done at the hip joint, turnout can often be improved. Done the way I did it, it will often blow the knee joint which is what happened. I could hear the pop as the bone dislocated and the tendons and muscles tore beneath the black latex skin of her encasement suit. I had had her boot in my hands less than a second and it appeared that all I had done was to push her platform and heel away from my breasts. She toppled backward onto the floor and her screams masked the blow from my left boot into her crotch. The short-plug pelvic shield she was wearing was driven into her clitoris and her eyes opened wide and she moaned and tried to draw her good knee up into the fetal position. My kick had pushed the plug into the stem of her Diva cup, which could have either forced it on to her cervix or caused the contents to spill. Her flow spilled and began leaking into the crotch of her suit and through the zipper which wasn’t waterproof. By the time security got there it was all over. T&B was writhing on the floor screaming about her leg being broken and leaking blood from her crotch. T&B was right about one thing, I did smell like a brewery and by then it had all dried or run off. The shaft seals on my Pleasure boots worked perfectly keeping the liquid out. Robin had paid our bill and come over to escort me to the manager who we both know to explain what happened. He wasn’t concerned since he had the whole thing on video showing that I was provoked and then attacked for no valid reason so it was pure self defense on my part.