I’m going to be in Russia for Halloween. Seriously. One of my good friends asked me if I wanted to join him for a few days, tickets and hotel paid, and I said ‘YES!’

What does this have to do with Halloween? Well, actually, everything. I don’t like to pretend to be a witch or a ghost when I can be a bottom or a sub. I don’t like to dress up in cheap costumes, when I can indulge in my favorite fetishes. Most of all, hell, why wouldn’t I go to Russia, all expenses paid!

Peal away a layer of politics, and it’s a phenomenal country and with its history and many cultures. We’ll be in St. Petersburg. Just imagine, all the art, the history, the setting. The perfect place to make an normal outing that much more exciting.

Russia is sexy. It’s forbidden, dangerous, exciting, and men rule. My place. Being a reasonably attractive youngish woman is a license to be submissive in private and in public. Nobody will blink an eye.

It has it’s ugly side. The sex industry is still going strong and not pretty. Men with money usually have models around them like arm-candy. Being ignored, humiliated, or abused by your man is not going to cause any uproar. Don’t get me wrong. Russian woman are incredibly strong, and typically much more intelligent and courageous than their male counterparts. But it’s a chauvinistic society.

That happens to work for me. It’s not a statement about Russia, it’s a statement about who I am.

I like it when I don’t have to stand up for myself. If I want to give my partner permission to humiliate me in public and someone doesn’t like it, then get over it. It’s my humiliation, not yours. If I want to be a slut, a fuck-toy, because I chose to, then I have every right to be. If he wants to show me off as his slut in public, the way other woman might be embarrassed, then let him. As long as I don’t do any harm to others, it’s nobody else’s fucking business.

I have seen the website of the hotel — pretty fancy. Guess what scandalous things I’ll be doing there. Wearing nothing underneath my PVC coat when we go out? Or maybe just an underbust corset? When he asks me to take off my coat, I refuse. I’m the bratty type. I won’t do what he wants.

I’m a slut. Going out in public half naked. Taunting him to humiliate me; he may not even know what he’s doing. I’m turning from sub to bottom in a flash. All of a sudden, I call the shots, he is the top, but I’m in control. Back in our room, he finds out why, and I’ll have to pay the price.

If he wants to not just top me, but turn me into his sub, he has to make me. Oh, I love those power battles. I love to lose them after a good fight. And a good fight sometimes means getting away, to a place where rules are there to be broken. Where, for better or for worse, women can be submissive in public. Men can be dismissive, insulting, humiliating.

I may not want to live there, but for a few days, it’s heaving. That’s my Russian Halloween.

Masturbation Monday