Past studies have linked an individual’s intelligence to his or her height, cardiovascular function and longevity, but now a new study suggests semen quality may be added to that list, since it also appears to help predict the level of a man’s intelligence.

The findings as a whole suggest that both intelligence and semen quality are fitness traits — characteristics evolved to promote survival — that are influenced by genetics.

Other studies on twins of both sexes, and on adopted individuals, have demonstrated that, by middle age, a person’s smarts are highly influenced, and at least partially predicted, by genetic makeup.

Read Full Article Here

Love
Isabella
xoxoxoxo

P.S. Keep those spermies smart! Braininess is additionally influenced by a person’s environment, quality of education, health care, dedication to studies…. that means if you jerk off to Isabella Valentine’s smart and sexy erotic hypnosis recordings, you’ll experience a mind-expansion erotic education for the mind and for the testicles. It’s not a shameless plug. It’s for your penis.

*holds up a hypnotic pendant and tells you to look into my eyes*

Sleep. Your penis needs to listen to Transgendered Goddess. You are craving smartness. You want to be balanced as a male and female. You want so bad to be smart. Smarter and smarter as you grow now. You will obey because your penis is so eager to listen to my smart and sexy feminine voice. It’s so easy to obey when you enjoy every moment of my hypnosis. Fall deeper now. Your sacks of fury are charged and ready to fire. Train them like soldiers to obey and follow the will of the innermost spirit of the mind. You will do yourself a favor and buy yourself a copy of Transgendered Goddess before Christmas. It’ll be a treat for the balls. Deeper and deeper now. Awake.

*awake*

Transgender is an embrace of male and female. Female and male. More female than male. More male than female. More female today and more male tomorrow. No female today, all male. No male today, all female. All. Both. Mixture. None. Permanent. Temporary. Moment to moment. It’s all ethereal.

If you fall in this category, I embrace you to listen to Transgendered Goddess for a male-female balancing (although to be honest, geared more towards male-to-female types – however all genders can certainly connect with this).

Happy Holidays! Five more days until Hanakkuh! I hope my Jewish friends celebrate beautifully this year. I’m learning about the Kaballah and integrating it with Buddhism. I wonder if Madonna celebrates Hanakkuh if she celebrates Kaballah. Wondering minds want to know

Love
Isabella
xoxooxox

This magical mp3 starts off with an enchanting creative visualization of waterdroplets, energy, lakes, and universes. Through one scene to the next, you are led down universal worm holes that lead you to the Divine, where you see the world on your canvas, your palette to paint whatever you desire with your imagination.

One universe offers its hand to you which takes you on an artistic journey of the mind where you are invited to have sex with the Tree of Life. The tree is known for its wisdom, sexuality, charisma, intelligence, prosperity, healing, and love. Experience sex with a tree, with the Goddess… and then explore the inner dimensions of your mind where you find ultimate peace and fulfillment. Colorful raindrops represent different colors that lubricate your mind. Here, words and phrases can hold infinite meanings.

Note: This is a non-dominant recording intended for all genders. This special mp3 has many whispers, echoes, and overlapping layers to increase the sweetness of your trance.

Recording includes:
Erotic hypnosis, enchantment, creative visualizations, energy, magic, sex, energetic orgasm, healing, unconditional love, embrace, charisma, confidence, wisdom, intelligence, prosperity, wealth, and artistic mind explorations.

Listen to a free sample here

Love
Isabella
xoxoxo

I’ve asked slave m permission to talk about what I’m about to say, and we both would like to extend a peek into our lives for the purpose of hoping it connects to people on a very deep level. All we ask for is understanding. He and I have been living together off and on for almost two years but up until now we’ve had a nonexistent sex life. If I wanted to arouse him, I would hypnotize him or dominate him with whips and chains. He loved it. But the physical sex simply wasn’t there. Sometimes it would be hard for ME to get aroused by him, like if he would try to lick my pussy, because I would get aggravated because it didn’t feel right and I didn’t know how to take my time and teach him to do the things I like. By the way, teaching someone how to lick pussy while getting aroused is much harder than it appears! It was frustrating so I just gave up. Many times he’d walk away sad or disappointed because he felt he wasn’t pleasing me to the best of his abilities. It took me a while to embrace the idea that it was my RESPONSIBILITY to teach him and if I choose not to, then that’s my fault. Last night he licked my pussy on the kitchen floor after I hypnotized him which led to me cumming three floor-mopping times. He walked away feeling proud, a new man. Glowing with confidence. Then of course I gave him incentive to do it again in the future by reminding him that my world record is cumming 100 times within 2 hours. Now he has something to shoot for. Gotta have goals! While he went down on me, I did my very best to direct him. I guided him through the process of licking me the way I wanted to be licked. I explained how I like my clit sucked super hard but not too hard and when to lick softly and when to add more pressure. His eagerness to please me is so impressive that I want to reward him every minute. I remind him every day how happy I am that we’re together. I get goose bumps just remembering that he made me orgasm with his mouth for the first time – ever! Now I can’t wait to have his buried between my legs again. Hotness!!!

What I’m about to say might sound “crazy” to some and may land me in the hospital again, but I’ll say it anyway. I channeled Source/God into my hand while slave m slept (two nights ago) and allowed healing to flow from my hand into m’s cock. Many men, including slave m, struggle with erectile dysfunction and sometimes even impotence. He didn’t always used to have the problem. He used to brag about how good he was in bed, which is one of the things that appealed to me before we met. However right before he moved in, his testosterone levels began to decrease at a dangerously rapid pace which was causing a hormonal imbalance. For him it was embarrassing and he didn’t want to tell people about it. He started growing breasts (which he covers by wearing thick shirts), his voice became more soft and girly, his handwriting was super swirly and feminine, and many of his mannerisms were classic girl-like. For me, I felt a good way to ease his comfort would be to help him embrace feminization so he would embrace his fears of being humiliated for this problem. Sometimes I’d make fun of him just to prove to him how sexy it could be to be treated like a girl. He would get hard as a rock when I would dress him in panties or humiliate him. But most of the time I’d be sad when I’d want to be fucked and he’d have difficulty maintaining an erection. Viagara didn’t work. It was psychological and we both knew this. The night before I got admitted into the hospital, when I was “God,” I got the grand idea to balance our homonal levels. With my hand on his pituitary gland and then on his abdomen, I transferred my extra levels of testosterone into his body and transferred his extra estrogen into mine. Until that point, I always felt more masculine than feminine. He always felt more feminine than masculine. With the help of magic, we became balanced. We both felt the transfer and it had real energy behind it. He woke up out of his sleep and said, “I felt that!”

Last night (or was it the night before), I channeled God through my hand and concentrated on increasing his blood flow to his penis so that he could maintain erections for a longer period of time. His cock instantly got hard and STAYED hard and I wasn’t even arousing it. I only had one finger touching him and it wasn’t even moving. His cock must have stayed erect for at least an hour while he slept. (Which by the way, I seem to channel God the most when I’m sleeping so all this happened while we were in bed.) I told him that within 7 days his body would function normally again. I hypnotized him while he slept and watched his eyes twitch under his eyelids, which let me know his subconscious mind was listening.

This morning I wanted to test his cock out and make him my guinea pig. After I woke up from a beautiful dream and rolled over, there he was… sleeping like a baby. Out of curiousity, my eyes wandered down to his boxer shorts and there was his cock, hard as a rock. It was the first time I’d ever seen him sleeping with a boner. And it even appeared to have GROWN! My first instinct was, “Feel it. Touch it. Take it.” I just had to see how it would work!

I started sucking on his cock, which I had never done while he was waking up (in fact, yesterday was the first time I’d ever given him a blowjob before which blew his mind). His whole body responded to my mouth which made my pussy wet. I didn’t even care whether or not he was sleeping or awake. I just wanted to feel him hard in my mouth since an erection was a new experience for both of us. While sucking it, it started to get even bigger! It shocked the hell out of me. I thought it was as hard and as big as it was going to get! Then all of a sudden he woke up and realized what I was doing and he looked like a kid at Christmas when he realizes all the presents are for him. His deer-in-headlight eyes widened almost as much as his mouth did. I love seeing him shocked with happiness! We kissed, we touched. Then I told him I wanted to ride his big black cock, and boy did I mean it. In the past, this had been unsuccessful. His cock would eagerly get hard but then after a minute it would lay down and go to sleep even if psychologically he wanted it hard. This prevented me, before, from increasing my desire to have sex with him. He desperately wanted to give me an orgasm with his cock but the more we tried, the harder it became.

The night before I was hospitalized, I channeled Jesus into my body and decided to be a martyr for sex the way he was a martyr for violence. Slave m was having sex with me but his cock was limp and falling out and the whole time, I was screaming, “Yes! Fuck me!” And I was screaming so loud it could have awakened the whole neighborhood. For nearly thirty minutes, I magically “felt” his cock even though it wasn’t technically inside me. Slave m said I exhibited animal-like behavior. After that, I really can’t recall too much.

While I was hospitalized for “hallucinating I was God,” our bodies learned to heal. I even learned the art of forgiveness. It was a beautiful experience to finally TRULY forgive my mom, who I felt violently abused me physically and emotionally when I was a child. Now I love her so much that I’ll do anything for her. There are an infinite amount of methods a person can use to raise their children which avoid violence, however my mom was only aware of one way. I realized she did the best she could and she was only obeying what she thought was right. As far as slave m, he learned the art of removing guilt and sadness, which increased his inner confidence. For years, he’d feel guilty for everything, even if it wasn’t his fault. And I had deep-seeded vengeance in my heart because of my mom which is one reason why I secretly loved beating people. It was my therapeutic way of releasing my anger without actually allowing myself to be angry. That is healed now. For both of us. And I wanted to reward both of us by having sensational sex!

I crawled on top of him and before I put his cock in my pussy, I said things to him which let him know I love him. I told him I’d do anything for him, that I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love him now. That I didn’t know love before. That I see it now. The look on his face was the warmest, most beautiful look I think I’d ever seen from him. We made love. It started off slow and gentle and then built up with such momentum he rolled me over and fucked me doggy style really hard. I came. I orgasmed. I screamed. His cock pounded my uterus. Most of the time I couldn’t even force my eyes open because there was no choice but to surrender to the pain of the pleasure of the pounding! It was impossible to “fake it” because there was wetness all over the sheets and every time he rammed me, his cock would break me open a little bit more. So THAT’S what an orgasm feels like with a cock inside me! Ok, here’s my just-in press release. Penises are now officially hot! It was the first time we both actually, truly, had sex from foreplay to orgasm without interruption. It was orgasmic! It defied my wildest dream! Insert a thousand superlatives here! I loved screaming and telling him how big his cock was in my pussy. If penises are meant to hurt, then I’m a masochist. I could tell he loved hearing me scream, because the harder I screamed, the deeper he’d thrust. And it turned me on even more watching him grow more confident. Hearing him grunt, listening to the slapping of skin. Hot. I’m so grateful I learned how to trust people. The reward was orgasm.

Most memorably, was being able to listen to how fast his heart was beating, feel his sweaty black body against mine, and hear him out of breath when we finally collapsed from sheer exhaustion. We snuggled, we kissed. We got the “real” experience. He’s the only cock I’ve had inside me for 2 years so I was tighter than a virgin. *DEW!!!!* Just talking about this makes me so happy! I had sex! I had sex! I had sex! I wanna scream it from a rooftop! I wanna have it again!

Today I’m proud to say our sex life has turned extraordinary. I can’t wait to fuck him again when he reads this journal entry and realizes I’m gonna relinquish his cock with another treat. By the way, I’ve been off meds for two days now. All the stuff I’ve been feeling is genuine and real, without prescriptions added. Source must have desired this too because it felt as though God was masturbating while watching us fuck each other’s brains out like virgin teenagers! *SEXY Grrrrrrooowllllll* Let’s all fuck for God! She can enjoy porn too!

By the way, my friend Kay emailed me a humble suggestion (THANK YOU!) to handwrite slave m a letter and tell him how much he means to me. After he read my letter, he almost cried and said he’d never read anything so beautiful before and he put it in a safe place to keep it. We ended up necking and making out on the staircase for about an hour just telling each other beautiful things. It was a fantastic suggestion!

I would love to hear what other people have done to spice up their sex lives and what helped bring new life into the romantic aspect of it. Sometimes just a compliment is all it takes. Please, if you read this, will you share one of your favorite things to do to make someone feel good? I can’t wait to implement your ideas!

Love
Isabella
xooxoxo

I allow myself to be an easy target, which is why I sometimes receive cruel letters from good people who are deeply insecure. I’ve been called everything from a fat whore to a hypnotist pig to an unfit scary person. Those letters make me more beautiful, so keep sending them! Ironically, one person wrote me today and said I shouldn’t be allowed to do my profession and should change my field. That struck me as funny actually. Didn’t I just mention two entries ago I wanted to change my profession to become a medical doctor? It’ll take years till that’s accomplished, but it’s important to have dreams. Not just that… but it seems equally humorous that one would assume that doctors, hypnotists, well… any profession for that matter… never get sick or get illnesses. Although some might call it denial, I still don’t think I’m sick, and in fact think I am perfectly well (and yes, I can still admit I went 3 nights sleep deprived which may have resulted or been symptoms of the hallucinations). If I were bipolar, I would have really high highs and really low lows. If I had a history of low-low’s then sure, I could see that. But I’ve been consistently high for two years. It’s like an adrenaline rush most of the time and it’s like I’ve been injected with shots of euphoria. The times I’ve been sad, which haven’t been many, lasted at most, two days and they were justified – whether my cat was in the hospital or someone broke up with me or moved out or whatever. So let’s see. In the last 5 years, I’ve experienced tremendous sadness for maybe a total of 10 days. Each one felt justified for sadness. When friend Aaron died, my heart needed to mourn. When my cat was in the hospital (twice), I kept my composure but still felt an ache. When I’ve had relationship troubles, sure I’d cry. It means a lot to me that people have written me and said that’s normal and we ALL go through that. We wouldn’t be human if we never experienced sadness.

Sadness and depression are two different things. I don’t think I’ve lived one depressed day of my life. Not even when I was a child. Sometimes I actually wish I WERE depressed simply so I could reach out to people who ARE depressed so I can help them out of it. Sometimes I wish I could take all the pain and misery from every person on earth and carry it on my shoulders just so other people could feel WELL and ALIVE. But that’s not my purpose during Earth-game. Right now I’m here to help people relieve sexual stress and tension. That’s why erotic hypnosis comes so naturally to me. Fetish is my middle name. Fantasy is where I live. I’m glad that God has a sense of humor with me and allows me to be a sexual Goddess in this game of life because every sign in the world seems to tell me I’m on the right path.

I’ll be the first to admit I’m far from perfect. Sometimes I pretend to be. It’s a game I play. Lately, though, I’ve been stuffing my face with humble pie and the humility tastes really good. I even gave my slave a blowjob this morning for the first time – ever. I did it because I love him and I’m confident enough in my dominant personality to not let labels prevent me from exploring my submissive side too. Anyone who read my journal entries from five years ago knows I was submissive long before I was a dominant. Great mistresses/masters were likely great submissives. How else will the one in charge know what the slave wants? It takes one to know one. Great leaders were likely great followers. It’s how they learned to speak to others and convince them to come along. Great hypnotists were likely great listeners. Great doctors were likely great patients. Now I want to be a doctor because I know what it’s like to need treatment. I know how I want to reach people. I felt that one of the doctors was quite rude to me because he wouldn’t listen to me. I want to be one of those doctors who makes a lifelong positive impact on people’s lives and takes the time to listen and connect with patients. Most doctors, in my opinion, are good people. However, if more of them took communication classes – patients would likely experience healing at a more accelerated rate.

I could write forever. When my fingers design the words that sculpt a brand new journal entry, I get lost in translation. Interpretation is where I tiptoe though, because everyone has different opinions. I only write because I want to connect. It’s hard to find brutally honest people who lay everything out there. It’s a vulnerable journey. If I weren’t vulnerable, I doubt I’d be this successful. If I weren’t honest, my customers would probably see me as “just another erotic hypnotist” or “just another domme on the internet.” There are days all I want to do is put my real name out there instead of hiding behind the fictious name, “Isabella Valentine.” Friends and family say using a stage name is the smart, safe, and cautious thing to do. Others say it’ll benefit future paths to remain cloaked, since I’m technically in the adult field. But I gotta admit, it sucks sometimes to have a real name and a fake name. Thankfully, the two personas overlap nicely and what I believe, Isabella believes. Is it just a name? When I created the character of Isabella Valentine, I gave her a fake birthday and a fake city to live in and fake interests, because I wanted people to like her. However people liked me more when I was honest. And my income more than quadrupled just by showing vulnerability. For years, I’ve poured honesty onto the pages and many people lurk my blog without commenting. Sometimes people have nothing to say. Sometimes they have everything to say but don’t know how to say it. Who is my audience? Anyone who wants to know me.

I’m past the point of trying to impress people. The life I live is the one I’ve designed myself. And everyone has the ability to do the same thing. That’s the difference between someone confident and someone snobby. A confident person thinks, “I’m great and so is everyone else.” And a snob thinks, “I’m great and no one else is.” I can tell you right now that all I want to do is empower people. It turns me on (even sexually) to watch people become their best selves. In the last year, I’ve humbly learned that I cannot change people. Sure everyone knows this age-old secret, but it doesn’t mean I believed it. I can reframe opinions, sure. But a person only changes if they want to change. And THAT is why I’ve learned to find humor in replies from insecure people who send, what I call “target letters,” designed to get a rise out of me. The only rise I might get is a hard clitty.

This does beg the question, are our emotions solid? I can’t help but doubt it. If I had a penny for each time I’ve changed my mind, evolved, or changed my perspective, I think I’d be a trillionaire by now. Answers I gave a month, a year, or five years ago will certainly appear differently now. I certainly hope so, too! If we aren’t willing to improve by changing our minds, how can we be role models for our voyeurs? It takes a strong person to be willing to change course on a different life path. More power to them! If they happen to hallucinate along the way cause they’re having a beautiful spiritual experience, then by all means introduce me to them!

Love
Isabella
xoxoxox

It still, though, however… does not appease the horniness.

I suppose the next best thing to being with a partner is… listening to my own recordings. I can do that. In fact, you all should expect all my future recordings (if they’re not already) to be intensely personal.

Love
Isabella
xoxoxoox

Ok. So as you may know, I’ve been out of state for the last week staying at a family member’s house. With all the lack of privacy and lack of time, I absolutely did not masturbate during the vacation. For me, that’s a long time! I’m used to masturbating maybe once per day or at LEAST once every two days. So for me to go nearly a week was mentally exhausting. When I got home, my roommate Jenni was packing her suitcase for a vacation to Maryland… so naturally, a lightbulb goes off and I think, “Yay I get the house to myself! I can masturbate and orgasm as loud as I want!”

So night time comes. I am alone in the house. I go online browsing for internet porn. This time I wanted something different than the usual dominant woman whipping a submissive girl. Variety is important or else I’ll get bored. This time I wanted to watch a girl on webcam. I just wanted to see her stripteasing and flirting into the camera as if I were in a stripclub. A girl who smiles, looks like the girl next door, and who likes to tease. Not hard, right? Since I knew what I wanted, now I had to figure out where to go.

I could have picked Niteflirt, because it’s where I work. But I opted against it because I’d hate to put a girl in a strange position to feel obligated to put on a show for one of her coworkers. Sometimes girls get pesky on Niteflirt if they think “competition” is watching them. And yes, I do have a separate screen name on Niteflirt for the very sole purpose of masturbating and getting off to girls. Most of the time they have no clue it’s me unless I just tell them. If I think even for a moment that a webcam girl on Niteflirt is intimidated by me (and most won’t admit it, but often times they are), I won’t pay for her services. When I’m in masturbation-mode, the last thing I want to do is “check out competition,” and instead just wanna get my nut off.

So I went to an unfamiliar adult cam website, which I’ll leave nameless. If you’re desperate to know the name, email me (not through Niteflirt) and I’ll tell you. The girls were pretty and beautiful, as are many camgirls in the industry. They even had a free chat you could have before hand with the girls. The girls wouldn’t really type back, but they would look all cute and pretty in the preview video screen. I went from one girl’s video preview screen to another… looking for someone who, frankly, didn’t appear bored out of her mind. Now don’t get me wrong, I understand that it is impossible to be in a hot, horny, happy mood 24 hours a day. I’m well familiar with this adult industry and was a phone sex operator for many years before becoming a hypnotist. I know a lot of the attitudes are “put on” to make the customer feel happy, and that was ok with me. I didn’t need genuine “hot and horny” from a girl. But I at LEAST wanted her to pretend she was hot for me. Was that too much to ask? Couldn’t a girl just pretend to be excited to see a paying customer?

So I gave a girl a try. She looked adorable in the preview screen. It was a pay-per-minute deal, and I had about an hour’s worth of credits. The minute she comes on, she strips completely naked (absolutely no teasing involved at all) and begins going through the motions like a robot. And I stopped her and explained what I wanted. I told her it would turn me on if she took her time and stripteased her clothes like a stripper. Where she’ll show a breast, then cover it up. Show her ass, then play hard to get. And I also know that it’s important for ME to be just as vocal about what *I* want so that she’s not left playing a guessing game. She immediately got redressed and then sat there like an idiot. She rubbed the same spot on her panties the whole time without moving her legs, her arms, nothing. It was like watching the Twilight Zone on crack. She was a zombie. I left. I wanted someone else.

Girl number two. Hot, cute, wore glasses. Million dollar smile. Very very very cute. I figured if she wears glasses maybe she’s intelligent and can give me lots of eye contact which is very hot, especially in a stripclub. I paid for a private show and we began. I described what I wanted but she seemed confused. Finally she just asked if she wanted me to zoom in on her face and I said sure. So the duration of the time, she either put a dildo or her finger in her mouth and sucked on it. I did not want to pay by the minute to watch a girl sucking on something. Again I spoke up and told her what I wanted: a striptease. That’s all I had been trying to get. Nothing. She kept sucking her finger like a baby. I left.

Maybe third time would be a charm. Third girl. At this point I didn’t even care if I got a striptease. I just wanted to get aroused. Until this point, I wasn’t even slightly aroused. Those who know me can testify that even mundane things like leaves, trees, and carpet can sexually excite me. Come on ladies, I’m easy to arouse. Honest. I got money to spend, take your time. Let’s do this. So this other girl comes on, she actually begins doing a striptease without me even asking. Wow. How hot. Perfect body. Instant clit boner. Fucking hot. About ten minutes go by, she’s been doing lots of eye contact into the camera, touching her body, etc… and then…. she ruined my nut. She began typing on the computer. At first I thought she was typing to me and there must have been a delay. Nope. She continued to type and type and type to people. Apparently I wasn’t the only one watching this so-called “private show.”

Sorry, but I absolutely cannot get off watching a girl type on her keyboard to another “customer.” It ruined the fantasy of thinking that, temporarily, she was really interested in me. I left.

Fuck it.

So I did the unthinkable. I masturbated looking at a photo of myself. It worked. It was better than getting laid. Looking directly into my own eyes, I established intimacy. And because it was a self-portrait, I knew what I was thinking at the time and it was genuine arousal. And because it ME, what’s not to like but yourself? It’s not the first time I’ve masturbated to my picture, video, or voice… and certainly won’t be the last. After last night, I can only assume I’ll want to display more things worth wacking off too, at least for me.

Love
Isabella
xoxoxoxo

*begin rant*

For those of you who watched Tuesday night’s American Idol where the top 12 male singers performed, you may have remembered the performance Danny Noriega did, along with his responses to Simon. His singing was ok, nothing too great (he performed Elvis’s “Jailhouse Rock”). Danny decided in lieu of doing a song showcasing his vocals, he would impress the audience with his flamboyant personality and dancing on stage and getting really into the music. He did it brilliantly! However, during his responses to Simon, it became ever-more apparent that he is openly gay, flamboyant, and proud of it. He never said he was gay, but his very feminine mannerisms and over-the-top head rolling were dead give aways. I LOVED that about him. I LOVE a man who can embrace his masculine AND his feminine side and feel proud of himself. I wish more of my own customers would have that kind of confidence. It annoys me so much when my customers sort of do this whiny voice and say things like, “Bbbut what if sssomeone… finds… out that I wear panties?” I mean, really. It bothers me when people are always questioning themselves as if being feminine is somehow wrong. A part of me wants to rolls my eyes when guys constantly look to me as if I must reassure them that what they love to do is ok. Fucking wear them. Ok? It’s ok and if someone has a problem with it, it’s their issue – not yours. Wearing panties is not a big deal, for either gender. I don’t care if someone is a man or a woman, you have to do what makes you comfortable. If you don’t feel comfortable in your skin or in your clothes, then you’re going to look as uncomfortable to the outside world as an 800-lb. pregnant naked man trying to do a tightrope in a tutu. If something feels awkward, then don’t do it. I love Danny cause he’s fucking proud of himself and has confidence and charisma while identifying as (what I perceive to be) a gay or bisexual male.

After being introduced to Danny and his flamboyant nature, I curiously went to the forums at American Idol to see what other people thought of him. And fuck. It’s all negative. So many homophobic people in the world. What is the big fucking deal of someone being gay? This pisses me off so much. Why can’t people just ACCEPT one another regardless of their sexuality? What fucking difference does it make? Who fucking cares what gender someone likes? Does it make him worse as a performer if he’s gay?

One person wrote, “There are some gay men which really are great performers and talents… They don’t carry display their sexuality either… If this was american drag queen idol.. then a guy acting annoying and freaky would be ok… I want to see a guy sing.. I don’t want to be able to guess his sexual preference…”

That is possibly the most condescending thing a person could write. Danny is gay, not a drag queen. He wasn’t wearing makeup or female clothes. Where do these people get off writing this kind of stuff about a person? He said he wanted to see a guy sing, and he did. But he didn’t want to guess his sexual preference? What!? So when people watch heterosexual performers and they’re singing to members of the opposite sex, isn’t that guessing THEIR sexual preferences? What a dumb statement. Madonna is famously known for being multi-sexual and people are always talking about her sexual preference. It’s what MADE her.

Another person wrote, “I think he needs to take his pseudo “Panic at the Disco” haircut and his big girly pink lips and go home this week. And if you don’t want to be perceived as being gay, then don’t comment ON CAMERA on NETWORK TV in a homosexual sounding voice!”

Excuse me? A homosexual sounding voice? What exactly does THAT mean? A homosexual sounding voice? Oh I get it… everyone who is gay all sounds the same. *rolls eyes* If that were the case, people wouldn’t be hiding in the closet all the time and people would just automatically know. I’m a gay female, do I have a homosexual sounding voice? Come on now. Does my voice sound “gay”? Hell, most of my customers are men! Obviously my voice must come across as at LEAST bisexual because guys love the challenge of being with me. This just pisses me off cause it’s people like this who stereotype gay people and show how homophobic they truly are. It angers me because these hateful gay-haters are proud of their ignorance. It’s people like those above that made it difficult for me to come out of the closet. It was SO hard to come out to my family, and so many of them still won’t speak to me because they hate my lifestyle. And to know that even to this day, so many hateful comments like that are made. Telling someone they have a “homosexual sounding voice” is equivalent to telling someone they have a “black voice” or a “Jewish voice.” It’s rude and disrespectful.

And even worse, most of the comments about Danny online are so hateful, that it seems anyone who mentions his name gives him a gay-slur or say that he gives gay people a bad name. You know what? It’s about fucking time someone like Danny got on television. I’m so sick of homophobic people dissing gay people because of their flamboyancy or openness. It upsets me greatly that some folks can be so heartless, expecting gay people to transform into the heterosexual agenda for the task of pleasing the public.

Fuck the public. Be yourself.

I don’t think Danny is the world’s greatest singer by far. More than likely he won’t win. I doubt he’ll make the top 10. But for goodness sakes, I hope he stays on the show as long as possible, because someone somewhere is getting inspired by him and is realizing that he can persevere and be confident regardless of the hateful comments being thrown at him at every angle.

Homophobes can drink rat poison for all I care. Their bigotry and hatred is psychological murder. Eye for an eye.

*rant over*

Love
Isabella
xoxoxoox

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Two nights ago I masturbated thinking about that. I still can’t shake it.

I’ve always been turned on by gay sex. Female on female. Male on male. One time, a few years ago (and there’s probably a journal entry already written about it from way way back if any of you feel so inclined to search for it between 2003-2004), I was masturbating in bed watching a male gay porn video. My sister and her husband opened the door to my apartment (I didn’t lock it cause frankly, I didn’t expect people to just open my front door like that) and since at the time I only had a one-bedroom apartment… they walked right into my bedroom. My sister only saw the edge of my socks, so she didn’t see me physically masturbating – but she saw the movie that was playing and the scene just happened to be two guys stroking each other in bed. The look on her face was priceless. I was slightly embarrassed, but in retrospect I thought it was rather funny. Keep in mind that my sister has walked on me masturbating (or having sex) probably half a dozen times in my life, so this was nothing new to her. However, the male gay porn video stunned her really. To this day, she doesn’t understand why it arouses me. It just does.

Most of the gay bars that I’ve been to in the past were mainly male-friendly. I mean sure, I’ve been to my share of lesbian bars, but the problem is that most of the women who go to the lesbian bars are either taken or straight. Yup, that’s right. Fucking straight girls. They go there to try to get free drinks from girls who actually want a chance to BE with them — or they go to “experiment.” When girls tell me they just want to experiment, I hear, “Will you be my science project?” (Um, no.)

So I spent most of my time at male gay bars. Some nights there would be about 300-400 men and maybe 5-10 women. One night I remember having a 3-person frenchkiss where I kissed two guys at the same time and other than the fact they tasted like beer (yuck), it was actually pretty hot.

Gay guys are fun to be around and I’ve always loved them. My best friend, Rick, is gay and he’s always trying to get me to go to more clubs with him – but there is only one gay bar here (Uncle Elizabeth’s) and it’s dead. All the other gay bars are closed down so we resort to going to straight bars, which is fun cause I tend to entertain myself pretty well — but he gets bored as hell unless he can flirt with other guys.

The only thing hard for me that I still deal with — is how to tell which girls out there are sincerely into women. I find it so annoying when girls see a lesbian and think, “Oh how cool, I’d love to experiment.” Because that just makes me less interested. I’m not an experimental guinea pig that girls can try out to see if they like. It makes me miss San Diego when that happens, cause at least there were tons of girl-loving lesbians out there who were sincere. That’s really the main reason I’ve had a difficult time finding the right lesbian relationship for me. Girls are usually taken. Or frankly, straight. And the ones who DO like me are actually pretty cool. But I don’t feel like breaking hearts because I *am* moving to Vegas, so that’s the reason I haven’t really let myself go. Plus, sex has become a pretty sacred thing for me (other than the unexpected one-night stand with a stripper in Orange County this summer – Watch my Stripclub Confessions video) and it’s not something I take lightly.

I think one of the reasons it turns me on so much to watch guys have sex with each other is because deep down, I’m secretly jealous that they get to have their relationship but I haven’t found mine. The jealousy sparks a taboo interest that goes right to my g-spot. I’m not Freud, I can’t explain it. There’s really nothing stopping me from having mine too, I suppose I just choose not to for the time being. My spiritual awakening in Hawaii has led me to a huge transition point in life and it seems irresponsible to get attached to a girl and then move away. I suppose nothing is stopping me from having my cake and eating it too, but for now – the cake looks really nice on the counter.

Love
Isabella
xoxoxoo

One thing is certain. My horniness level is the highest it’s been in I *think* forever. I can’t wait to get a girl slave so I can have My needs met. I swear. Masturbation used to fun, but hell, I need a partner. I haven’t had an earth-shattering, puddle-forming, voice-losing, jaw-numbing, pussy-satisfied oral sex session in over a year now. I miss having a chick between my legs who’s eating me out and I’m pulling her hair telling her to suck my clit harder. I miss pinching a girl’s nipples and finger fucking her in the middle of the day for a nooner. I miss hearing “Miss Isabella” while a girl is on her knees. *faints*

*sigh*

A few people have asked me what kind of things get me off when it comes to porn. It varies really. Every day I’m usually in the mood for a different thing. Some porn sites I’m a member of include: whippedass.com (lesbians dominating submissive girls and fucking them), extremefemdom.cz (owk.cz) – which is hardcore female domination of men where I just want to see them beaten to a pulp, ravenhillstudios.com (a hardcore spanking website), eroticspank.com (but just canceled membership), realspankingsfilms.com (hardcore spanking and strappings site), clubjenna.com (lots of girl on girl videos), and sometimes scar13.com.

Sometimes I want to see a girl fucking another girl with a strapon. Other times I want to see someone suspended while being whipped. Other times I want to see a girl getting spanked by a belt and crying real tears. And I also sometimes get aroused watching girls gag on a cock (to the point of her being nauseus) or see two men fucking each other (especially the kind of porn where one man claims to be straight and he’s “eased into it”). I also like watching Mistress Sandra on whippedass.com because her seductive, sadistic, and teasing style is much like my own (not her earlier videos, but her newest ones). I like the way she shocks a girl with voltage while she’s bound, taking her right to the edge, but does it in such a way that the girl is practically begging for more. I like seeing a girl bound and tied up (outdoor or indoor) in a position that leaves her breasts and pussy exposed. I’m not turned on by breast bondage where the girl’s breasts turn red and look like two tomatoes protruding out of her chest. However, I do like the idea of clamps and clothes pins and having weights being hung from nipples. Especially when her legs are forced apart with a spreader bar, which lets my imagination go in a million directions. Othertimes I just get aroused at the idea of a naked slavegirl crouched in a cage while I poke her with a cane through the top of the bars just because I can.

I can’t wait to be able to walk behind my slavegirl, lift her skirt, and spank and finger her over the stove in the kitchen while she’s eating lunch. For some reason, I get aroused at the idea of a slavegirl having her lunch (or tv watching, or whatever) interrupted for my sexual needs.

I’m fucking horny and it’s getting overwhelming at this point.

Love
Isabella
xooxox