I first encountered Aloysuis during a latex workshop at a sexuality festival.  He was serving as a demo bottom for a gas mask, slipping in one-liners between the facilitator’s instruction, boasting that he had the lungs of a singer and could therefore endure breathplay with the best of them.  Since then he’s had two, as he calls them, ‘cardiac events’, which have put the capacity of those lungs in perspective a bit.  He keeps on singing.

Later that night I saw him stark naked at the festival closing party, chained to the ceiling beam, getting a good paddling by a elder leather dyke who got about on crutches.  The body changes.  We adapt.  Our pleasures endure.

Rasied an upright Catholic boy, Aloysius knows corporal punishment from a variety of angles, and has developed a particular taste for the cane.  He jokes that he’s yet to meet a top who can outlast him on that one.  His travels in the kink world started late, and are marked by a fludity of gender, sexuality, and identity which he’s developed in great company.  All of this brings him to where he stands today: the Dandiest of Dandies, the Wife of Wives, the King of Queens.

We’d be remiss not to mention that he makes a damned fine cup of tea.