It’s no wonder that my masterpiece would be a derivative works — for those unfamiliar, known as Hunting Alice, soon to be an audio drama series and broadcast on the Internet.

This, strangely enough, is not about that … exactly. This is about something else. Deeper. The roots of Roulette, in some sense. While I am always aware of myself, I do have momentary lapses of … treason? No. Season? Hmm, not quite. And ‘reason’ doesn’t cut it, since they’re not always unreasonable; but they do change me.

There are many people milling about in my head — many of which whom are my own creations, and present themselves in my fiction works. But sometimes, I get a bit too method. Certain characters, unfortunately, are so deeply ingrained within me that when something triggers them (or someone) it’s all I can do to keep firm hold of myself. It’s just so otherwise natural to slip into the masque of someone else.

(Yes, this is why I did so much theatre in my youth. Why, had I my druthers, I would be an actress as well. Moving on.)

One such character is Dr Penderan Fauste. That’s a name you’ll be hearing much more often, you can be sure of that. While it’s new to you now, it’ll one day be uttered with such casualness you’ll hardly remember the time in which he was a non-entity. Do mark my words; it’s not hyperbole.

Fauste is a funny sort, though. Trouble is, while I am his writer, I’m unable to ever assimilate the character completely. I must always entrust him to another (which I recently have, and could not be happier.) Alas, something incredibly curious takes place once that … vessel has been found. His counterpart, soul-mate — the yin to his yang — the other side of the coin — does fight to take hold of me: Riley Wingate. (Another name you’ll soon know, well, though not as readily as Fauste.)

She is the Alice for a chaotic, modern world; a controversial heroine, and inquisitive investigator of the strange, curious existence in which we find ourselves, and cursorily term ‘reality’. Regularly, she’s a wonderful person — very compassionate, empathetic, and … a bit unaware of the depth of the tumult around her. She tends to find herself at the heart of massive conspiracies which serve to unhinge her sanity, disturb her inner peace and leave her a very different person than she started out.

Of course, according to my brain, there is a kind of chronology. In some sense, being that I have written all five novels, and I do know the ending of our strange tale, Riley does not appear as easily to me in her earlier, innocent stages. She comes out in full-force as what she has become: something powerful, and in many cases, to be reckoned with — quite carefully.

This doesn’t work in my everyday life. She’s too much; too intense, too forthright, too dominant, too antagonistic. If her world is not perfectly ordered, she just about blows a gasket. (And not quietly.) All of the docile, peace-keeping, harmony-seeking, submissive years which left her bewildered, brokenhearted, and forever changed are long gone. One extreme to the other.

Yes, yes, I know, I know. It does seem the story of my life, does it not? To constantly seek the balance. That’s Riley’s journey — and it appears it’s mine, too. Days like these, when she comes to me so easily, tend to remind me that I’m not there yet. She’s still disturbed, still seeking resolution, closure — some sense to why her world was so casually destroyed; why the only one that seems to care about the fact that she was left to gather the pieces, alone, was — no doubt — her.

There’s an anger there; a rage, unsatisfied. Powerful, and a bit frightening. She is my dominant side, strangely enough — and she was born of a sort of enforced submission. A requirement to be gentle, appease, placate, and be at the beck and call of others. She was never such to begin with, and when her dominant side came into being, it did not do so quietly. (Of course, to tell you more, I’d spoil the whole thing. You should read the books instead — and well, purchase the audio drama episodes on iTunes when it premieres; that particular scene is brilliantly presented in the audio drama — if I do say so myself.)

And, yes. The whole thing is very, very kinky.

At any rate …

I fear there is much that is resonant — and reminiscent — with me, and my own. That, in many ways, she is my means of coping. She is the tangible existence that my own journey is underway. And I remain just as perplexed and unaware of where the destination is to lead.

So, while we are engaged in demo recording, script revisions, rehearsals, and intensive characterisation — bear with me, as there may be many days like this, where she overtakes my good sense, because a part of me is too enthralled with the notion of just giving in.

It will be curious indeed.

Stay tuned.

Oh, yeah. And as for you ‘clever’ guys out there? Don’t try and top a Domme. It’s bad form. Besides, you’re just begging for trouble.

All that being said, for those seeking a bit of amusement, enjoy.

Zane smirks and runs his insolent gaze over Miss Roulette “ … Tits, ass, thighs … I’m thinking how good you would look crawling naked.”

Miss Roulette crooks a brow, sure that she misheard. “Crawling. Really, now?” Zane grins and comes closer. She runs her fingers slowly over the leather crop across her knee. “Is that a challenge?”

Zane takes her by the wrist. Miss Roulette slaps him forcefully, tossing you into the wall.

“Ooof!”

“ Don’t make me draw my weapon. You won’t like the consequences.”

Miss Roulette folds her arms. “Now. Will you play fair?” Zane growls and comes back, fiercer this time, his eyes smouldering. Miss Roulette presses her forearm against his neck. “I SAID … will you PLAY FAIR?” Zane takes her by the hair. She pushes him against the wall again, quickly drawing her 9mm and digging the barrel into his neck.

“Apparently, he doesn’t know how to play fair.” She cocks the pistol.

“Wait!”

“I’m a professional, pal.”

“Don’t!”

“ Should you like to continue this, you’re going to have to read the fine print.”

“Okay. What fine print?”

Miss Roulette releases him. “My website. Go there. mistressroulette.com.” She sighs. “Do you make it a habit of accosting Dommes in their personal space?” She waits. “I asked you a question.”

“I didn’t know how strong you are.”

Miss Roulette tosses her hair, replacing her weapon in its thigh holster. “Well, then. Now you do.”

She studies him. “Are you going to play nicely from now on?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“What are your terms then?”

“ I enjoy playing online; in fact, I’m a writer and very skilled role-player. However, I’m a professional. I work in blocks of time which are often-times prescheduled. At the very least, I need payment in advance.”

“In what form?”

“Paypal.”

Zane laughs. “You think I’ll pay real money for cyber role-play?

“Your choice, pal. Typically, it’s for my domination therapy, but I also do online domination.”

“Tell you what. I’ll let you crawl to me for nothing.”

Miss Roulette bursts into laughter. “Oh, REALLY? You MEAN IT? How about YOU fuck off, asshole? THAT sounds like LOTS of fun.”

Zane slips a hand between her thighs. Miss Roulette grabs it, painfully pushing back his fingers, gripping them tightly. “One of us is going to leave. Who’s it gonna be, buddy?” He squeezes her thigh. Miss Roulette again retrieves her gun. “I was here first, and have no reason to leave.

Zane knocks the gun out of her hand. Miss Roulette backhands him.

“Ooof!”

She retrieves the gun, and remains perched on the floor near the door. “I will train this on you as long as I need to.” She rises slowly. “Make another move, and I’ll blow your fucking head off.” She cocks the pistol. “Don’t tempt me. I’ve had a VERY long day.”

Zane stands motionless, watching.

Miss Roulette fingers the door handle, keeping a safe distance between the two of them. “Well? One more chance to leave. If you think I’m not serious, you’re about to make a potentially fatal mistake, asshole.” Miss Roulette sighs. “I’m counting to 3.”

“And then a cyber shooting?”

Miss Roulette laughs. “ You started this madness. I’m just happy to finish it.”

“Use your gun to control me.”

Miss Roulette shrugs her shoulders, keeping the gun aimed at Zane. “You weren’t playing fair. And I already gave you my terms.”

“You have the gun. That gives you leverage, I accept that.”

Miss Roulette sweeps the air with her free hand. “Well! At least you have something of a brain in your head. Bravo!”

“So, use it in the role play. Use the control.”

“ Again, do you frequently accost Dommes?”

“Yes.”

“I see. You enjoy the challenge. You think you need it because you’re otherwise so bored with everything else in your life.” Miss Roulette clacks her tongue. “So sad.” She yawns. “And now you’re boring me.”

Zane scowls.

“ Want to explain yourself? Why you come into an uninvited space and make a nuisance of yourself?

“A challenge, as you said.”

“ Is your life really that dull and uneventful? Or is it just your ego that’s so overinflated? Zane ignores the loaded questions. “ You think your actions aren’t so transparent?” Miss Roulette rests against the nearby wall, remaining ready to fire if necessary. “Seriously. If I wanted to fuck you, I would.” She shrugs. “But I don’t. It’s much more entertaining to fuck with you.”

Zane reddens.

“ So, I’m going to stick around just as long as I see fit. And then either you’re going to go away, or I will. If you wanted to seduce me with your … ” Miss Roulette laughs. “ ‘Wild and witty ways’, well, I hate to disappoint.” Zane looks at the gun. “Oh? Don’t you want to live to accost another Domme another day? Or I could just deem you a menace and be done with you before you fuck with any more of my unwitting sisters.”

“Hmm. You really do have command of the situation.”

Miss Roulette rolls her eyes. “Wow, y’think?” She sighs. “Look, dude. Just give it up. I don’t REALLY need any bloodshed today.” Miss Roulette laughs once again. I mean, sure, it’s ALWAYS fun. But not necessary today.”

“Then let’s negotiate.”

Miss Roulette cocks her head to the side. “I’m listening.”

“ I’m willing to pay a price to remove the menace of the gun. Probably there is some other way you could ensure control.”

Miss Roulette rolls her eyes. “Perhaps, but then again, how do I know you’re not just going to come after me again? Besides, I really don’t have time to get into your head right now.”

“ If I submit to being cuffed?”

Miss Roulette considers it, then smirking quietly to herself. “Fair enough. But you do exactly as I say, and this gun doesn’t leave my hands, nor does the safety engage, until you are.

“Okay.”

Miss Roulette retrieves a pair from her belt with her free hand and tosses them a few feet from her onto the carpet. “You have … ” She muses. “10 seconds.” She snaps her fingers. “Go, boy, go!” Zane grabs the cuffs and cuffs his wrists behind his back. “Good. Now, come forward and turn around.” He comes forward nervously and turns around. Miss Roulette loops a finger in between the two cuffs, checking the chain to make sure they’re secure, her eyes remaining upon the rings themselves the longest. She gives it all a little tug. Enough to knock the unaware off-balance. Zane jerks slightly. “Good.” Miss Roulette is relatively satisfied for the moment, and therefore replaces her gun in its holster once again.

“Phew.”

“ And don’t think for a minute that’s the only one. And, no, you’re not going to have a chance to go snooping for the others.” She then folds her arms. “So. What have you REALLY come here for, hmmm?” Miss Roulette cocks her head.

“A challenge.”

“ Actually, get on your knees. Drop. Now.” Zane reluctantly gets on his knees. “ That was not a drop, but I suppose it’ll do. Well, you’ve had your challenge, and you’ve been subdued. I’ve given you my terms, you’ve declined, so where do we go from here?”

“You have the whip hand.”

“ Upper hand, you mean to say?”

“Yes.”

“ Indeed, I do.” Miss Roulette studies him, slowly circling, as if in thought, but watching his every move, no matter how small. Zane squirms under the penetrating gaze. Miss Roulette leans in close to his ear, her voice barely above a whisper, but bathing in violence all the same. “I know every thought that goes through your clever little pea-brain.” She then pulls back and smiles broadly.

Zane looks up in dismay.

Miss Roulette laughs. “ A challenge.” She gestures grandly. “A ‘challenge’, indeed!” She studies her nails. “So. How does this sort of thing of yours usually go? Hmm?” She leans forward once more, her tone icy. “Do you get the girl? Do you convince her that you’re everything she’s ever wanted and needed?” Miss Roulette says in a mocking tone.

“Some don’t respond. Some submit, some are combative, some prevail.”

“ And what of the combative?” Miss Roulette asks, pacing slowly before you.

“Some are strong, some are not and are taken.”

Miss Roulette laughs once again. “By your pathetic Blitzkrieg? I can’t imagine. I can hardly believe that actually works. But, hey, as you said … ”

He looks down abashed. Miss Roulette turns back to him for a moment. “Some are strong; some are not.” Zane tugs furtively at the cuffs. She captures his gaze, her hand slowly going to the other pistol tucked away; she shakes her head slowly, remaining silent. “Are we not going to be friends, Zane?” Zane squirms, his eyes caught, feeling vulnerable. “If not, then I’m afraid we’re back at negotiations.” She leans in once more, this time her hand goes about his neck. “And you REALLY don’t want to know the NEXT deal I have to offer you.” Miss Roulette says, through gritted teeth, her eyes blazing.

His eyes widen, breathing harder. Miss Roulette straightens, though her grip tightens.

“Are we going to be a good boy now, Zane?”

“Arrghhhhhhhhhhhh – yes!”

“Just nod.” Zane nods. Miss Roulette presses once more, this time at a specific pressure point along your neck before suddenly releasing it and walking away. “Oh, good. I DO hope SO.” Zane jerks and moans. Miss Roulette regards you from a distance, leaning against the wall once more, dragging her stiletto lightly across the floor.

“I ask you again, Zane. What do you hope to accomplish here?”

Zane looks at the stiletto in anxiety. “I wanted to take you.”

“Oh, well. There’s a shocker.” She folds her arms and laughs. “Silly Zane.” Miss Roulette stalks suddenly over to him and ruffles his hair thoroughly. “Didn’t you learn not to fuck with Dommes?” She then pulls firmly upon the strands still in between her fingers. “DIDN’T you?” Miss Roulette continues through gritted teeth.

Zane gasps, startled, feeling the strength. “Yes, Ma’am.”

Miss Roulette contemplates her heel once again. “I don’t feel that was very genuine, Zane,” she says, mock-sweetly. “Wanna try again?” She pulls even harder.

“Yes, Ma’am! This boy learned not to fuck with Dommes!”

“ Oh, good.” Miss Roulette smiles brilliantly, though whether there’s joy or menace, it’s difficult to say. She ruffles his hair once more and pushes his head firmly and forcefully back before walking from him back to the wall where she was previously. Zane feels his head pushed back, then watches Her walk, feeling more vulnerable every minute. Miss Roulette studies him from this vantage, cocking her head to the side in mock-confusion. “Dearie-me, what to do with such a bad, bad boy?”

“Take off the cuffs?”

Miss Roulette laughs much more loudly than before. “Yeah. Right. Actually, I think this is a lovely time to make my exit. However … ” Zane tastes bitter helplessness as Miss Roulette leans back into him. “Before I go, Zane … ” She runs a finger slowly from the base of his sternum up to the tip of his collarbone. Her breath is hot against his ear. Zane jerks and whimpers, feeling the touch move up his bound torso. “All I have to do is push this little spot, right here … ” Miss Roulette says, her voice a cruel whisper, pressing only lightly. He gasps to feel the breath in his ear, his cock hardening. “Riiiight here,” she continues. “And kill you.” Drawing her face back, she smiles at him.

“Please. No!”

Miss Roulette frowns. “Aww? But … why not?”

“Please! I’ll do anything You say!”

“Anything?” Miss Roulette continues to smile as her voice returns to a more normal volume. “In that case … ” She continues, taking her fingers up toward his collar, to the delicate inside of his neck. Zane moans in fear and emerging desire. “Promise me no more of this bad behaviour? Hmm? Because if you do, and I find out … ” She laughs suddenly. “Oh, and don’t worry, Zane. I WILL find out … ”

“Oh, my God … ”

She watches him as she brings her finger back down to his collarbone. “Well?” She smiles. Zane grits his teeth. “You know the rest, don’t you? I don’t REALLY have to spell it out. … Do I?”

“You’re threatening to kill me?”

“Should you ever again try and fuck with me, or another unsuspecting Domme.” Miss Roulette crouches before him. “Are you going to be a good boy, Zane?” He shakes his head and glares. Miss Roulette rises from him slowly, her eyes wide. “Oh. Well, then. I suppose that’s enough of a lesson to be learned for one day. After all … you can’t change a man. It’s useless to try.” She walks from him.

“ I’ll come back and we’ll see.”

Miss Roulette laughs, pulling a business card from her shirt and leaning into him once more, her voice syrupy sweet, her eyes full of disgust. “You DO that.” She then shoves the item, now identifiable as a business card, into his mouth. “Have a nice life, Zane,” she says before ruffling his hair once more and walking past him through the door and out onto the street, leaving the door to slam behind her.

… Did I mention I hate broke motherfuckers? I hate crazy broke motherfuckers even more.

We’ve all heard the horror stories of women having gone completely amok due to certain hormonal fluctuations. Yeah. Normal, average, everyday women. Now. Imagine what happens when that woman is a dominatrix.

Yeah.

Like I said before. It’s a bad time. Not for everyone, just the broke motherfuckers who cannot seem to read, and think it’s a good idea (read: bad idea, very, very bad idea) to see if they can play me thereby through playing dumb.

Do not try and play me. Ever. Two reasons, both equally valid: A) I will know, and B) you will lose. Both of these are unsatisfactory outcomes for you. So, for those of you who think this an amusing past-time, consider your options wisely, and act with care.

Now, all of that being said. I’ve decided that a few of these charming little chats could serve as an example to really bring the point home. Without further ado, the first of, I sincerely hope, not many.

<Guest1> hello

<MaitresseRoulette> Hello.

<Guest1> u busy?

First things first. I hate netspeak. If you contact me not even bothering to do it correctly, then we’re already off to a bad start. It wouldn’t kill someone to use punctuation, capitalisation, and proper grammar. I know; I do it all the time.

<MaitresseRoulette> Yes. www.mistressroulette.com

<Guest1> do you like sub men Mistress?

<MaitresseRoulette> I’m a Domina, aren’t I? Have you read my profile? If not, I suggest you do.

<Guest1> just reading it now

<Guest1> wow

<Guest1> your stunning

<MaitresseRoulette> Thank you.

<Guest1> just looking at your web site

‘Looking at’ being the operative phrase. ‘Reading’ apparently didn’t figure anywhere into this.

<Guest1> cant see if you like forcing sub straight men into bi

<MaitresseRoulette> Sure it can be fun.

<Guest1> have you ever done it for real?

<MaitresseRoulette> Specify what you mean ‘for real’ ?

<Guest1> have you made a straight guy have forced bi in real life?

<MaitresseRoulette> In my professional work. But, really, everything’s consensual. You know that.

<Guest1> ok..ever made him 69 another guy aswell?

<MaitresseRoulette> Yep. Why not?

<Guest1> wow..have you?

<MaitresseRoulette> You know, it’s really important to remember the consensual part. Why are you asking me?

‘Why are you asking me?’ is code for ‘I’m onto you, motherfucker.’ Be aware of this.

<Guest1> if u made me 69 another guy would you have me on top or on the botttom in the 69

Oh, boy. What’d I tell ya?

<Guest1> just curious

That would be their code for ‘I’d like to unwittingly include you in my broke motherfucker masturbatory fantasies.’

<MaitresseRoulette> Depends. Are you in L.A.?

<Guest1> no..why?

<MaitresseRoulette> I am. So, looks like this is a rather pointless conversation, huh? Unless you want online domination.

<Guest1> would you do online humiliation with me?

This is, of course, assuming that he knows I’m a professional. And isn’t playing games. Alas.

<MaitresseRoulette> Sure. For how long would you like it?

I’m ready to get down to business. Bring it!

<Guest1> what did t depend on please Mistressn the 69?

What the fuck, asshole? ENGLISH.

<MaitresseRoulette> I speak English. Not gibberish. Let’s try that again. 15min, 30min, an hour, what?

<Guest1> 15 mins

<MaitresseRoulette> Okay. Do you use Paypal?

<Guest1> what have you got in mind for me please?

Again, uh, oh — broke motherfucker alert! All hands on deck!

<Guest1> if i came to visit you, what would u make me do please for for ed bi?

I repeat.

<MaitresseRoulette> ENGLISH! Again, why are you asking? And don’t tell me you’re ‘just curious’ again.

<Guest1> just curious

MaitresseRoulette is approaching meltdown.

<MaitresseRoulette> You and I BOTH know that’s bullshit.

<MaitresseRoulette> Look pal, I’m a professional. If you want to get off, go read my Free Porn. Hence, it’s ‘free’. I’m not.

<MaitresseRoulette> If you PM me again, and aren’t seeking my services, I’ll report you to the ChanOp.

<MaitresseRoulette> It’s ALL there on my website.

<Guest1> sorry i didnt know i had to pay ..sorry

R-i-i-i-ight.

<MaitresseRoulette> Because you didn’t READ, did you? READ! READ! LEARN TO READ, ASSHOLE!

<MaitresseRoulette> Jesus!

<Guest1> ok

<MaitresseRoulette> Thank you. Good day.

<MaitresseRoulette> Fuck, you people drive me INSANE.

<Guest1> lol..sorry

LOL … ? L-O-FUCKING-L? This does not bode well for the individual at the other end of this conversation.

MaitresseRoulette is now officially beyond meltdown. Congratulations, fuckwad. Enjoy the fireworks.

<MaitresseRoulette> Oh, so you think wasting my time is funny? Is it not all plainly there on my website? Why the fuck do you think I HAVE one?

<Guest1> ok..sorry

<MaitresseRoulette> How could you NOT know I’m professional? And knowing that, WHY would you try to get me to do something for you for free?

<MaitresseRoulette> What, do you think you’re special?

<Guest1> how many more times do i have to say sorry

<MaitresseRoulette> Three.

Should’ve said 13. Or 300. Ah, well. It was still fun.

<MaitresseRoulette> Then I think we’re even.

<Guest1> sorry

<Guest1> sorry

<Guest1> sorry

<Guest1> ok?

<MaitresseRoulette> Good. Go.

<Guest1> bloody hell

<MaitresseRoulette> Dude, you’re the one who CAN’T FUCKING READ!

And there we have it.