Last Sunday I finished my 200th Tinder date since January 1st of this year.
Some might call that excessive.
I call it a thorough examination of man’s behaviour patterns.
This isn’t going to be a horny ‘grab your dick’ kind of story but rather an interspective of not only how I’ve changed so much this year as a Mistress but also a good snapshot of how my brain is currently wired a fortnight before my 3rd European Femdom Vacation.
It’s also surely going to piss a few of the alpha males off who read me on a regular basis. It’ll definitely leave some with a “who the fuck are you to treat us men like that” kind of taste in your mouth. If that bugs you , well, I don’t give a fuck. But you’ve been forewarned , and since I’m shooting from the hip here – writing off the top of my head so to speak , there’ll be no watering down this drink , it’s gonna burn like a straight shot of Jack Daniels Blue Label.
She’s ‘all in’ now as a Mistress , not only doing every bdsm fetish request that’s thrown at her, but also researching and refining a techinque for each so that she now has a very distinct style. That’s a long way from an argument we had 5 years ago when she stopped walking with me on the eve of her first session and told me quite frankly “if you push me to do this Tease & Denial idea I will block you.”
This week she pulled off 20 sessions. Ya 20. Of which only 5 were focused on her specialty Tease & Denial. Let’s see … she had 5 pegging sessions , 3 forced bi sessions with Ladyboy Arita , 2 toilet training guys , 5 Mistress Girlfriend Experience evenings , and the remaining 5 were her T&D marathons.
Then she took 1/2 of that revenue and invested in latex suits , mistress’s thigh high boots , another photo shoot (her 5th, I’ve only done 2 by comparison) , 5 role play uniforms , 2 wigs , 3 spanking crops , 1 leg spreader , 2 chastity devices … and I had to draw the line at her throwing 200,000 baht at a Tease & Denial torture chair.
See what I mean by “all in” ? Ask anyone who’s booked her lately , you’re in for a treat.
Thing is though , I passed that stage. As did Jaa before me.
One thing that’s very noticieable is that there is an evolutionary cycle to this Mistress life.
We start off tentative , dipping our toe in the pool. Just seeing if we can get by a session getting a guy to listen to and obey an order … it’s a huge wall to climb.
Did I ever tell you about my first session?
Most girls cry their first time getting laid , I cried telling a guy to get on his knees and kiss my feet.
He said ‘no’ because he noticed I was shaking , and offered to go talk things out over a coffee at Starbucks.
Thank god eh?
Then comes the year and a half of “hey I can do this” immediately thereafter. Some sessions … disasters , others .. not so bad.
Which evolves into being what I call a functioning ground floor Mistress … someone who has developed the confidence to tell a guy to do something / or receive something (ie: punishment) and knows he’ll comply.
I’d currently classify 90% of Mistress’s in this country as such , like somebody who “graduated” grade 8 and thinks she’s ready to go out and work in the world.
Sadly, not many strive to evolve further. And why would they? Due to the incredible supply & demand imbalance in this “industry” they’re making bank and happy for it … but their mind isn’t truly wired to proceed further down the rabbit hole.
And hey, I’m not bashing that level, it’s a perfectly fine plateau to glide along on. In retrospect, I’d say that remaining at that level allows one a normal lifestyle. They can do shit that I can no longer do … and pretty soon you can add Wael to whatever dimension this is I’m in.
Dimension … red pill , whatever. Same.
Long time followers know that I’ve referenced extensively The Matrix , and specifically how ‘where I am right now’ is due to me having eaten that red pill back in high school.
For you … that’s a movie. Nothing more. “Cool flick.”
For me … it’s what life is like once I ascended from that basic Mistress plane noted above.
It’s an awakening.
And once woken , there’s no going back.
It’s important you understand at least that … that I percieve life wholly different than you.
Why is that important?
Well there’s 2 types of people I reckon who would go on 200 Tinder dates … the blue pill girls who are trying to find a guy … for whatever that may be … sex, relationship , marriage. So be it.
And there’s me, the red pill girl. The one who is examining men like rats in a maze , seeking nothing but a free dinner and information on the species.
Because the more I know and understand every nuance of every male personality type … the more I can benefit as their actions thus become overly simplistic.
But hang on a sec, let’s go back to that word “ascended” , because there is still a few more planes one needs to pass through to arrive where I’m at.
For the next level beyond ‘ordering men’ is ‘getting them to do things for you’ with suggestions , not orders.
This is like the ‘Jedi’ stage where you learn you can lift rocks … and think that’s cool until Yoda comes in and lifts a whole goddamn space ship.
Yoda in this case was played by the original Mistress Jaa : who’s happily retired in her 6 million baht house , paid for – with annuities – by her weak minded slaves.
Her brilliant son is going into grade 10 in a British International school cirriculum – 3 million baht in total that she hasn’t paid a dime for.
Doesn’t have to work a day ever again.
Fucking ascended man.
Check out any pretty Mistress on Twitter who’s hashtagging #findom , #paypig , and the synonyms that go along with that life … and you’ll find a good handful of Mistress’s who are at that ascended level.
But I’d argue that every single one of them are still clinging to a normal life. Somewhat.
They probably fuck. They have boyfriends or husbands. Maybe.
I was at that level for a while a couple of years back … that was the time I had what I know now as to be … the last relationship I’ll ever be in. I know the tense of that sentence if fucked up , I can’t be bothered.
Point is , ya those findom girls who realize they can not only get guys to be at their beck and call , but they can also get them to throw money at ’em as well … they could possible still be in an ok place mentally to consider having a guy around as something more than a fuck toy.
See the pattern developing? In regards to how a Mistress perceives men in this trajectory …
Male overlord -> Male -> A guy -> A guy I can command and control -> A dude I can suck money from -> A fuck toy, nothing more -> An uncontrolled variable* in a social experiment
- The study of which would filter out all disinformation to eventually consider it to be a controlled variable.
Heh, and to think my Grade 9 science teacher said I’d never use his teachings for anything significant.
Hmm. I’m about to use the word “give up” here , in reference to things “i’ve given up on” .. but that’s not wholly true.
Have you ever heard of Mistress Politics?
Neither have I …
Seth Brundle: You have to leave now, and never come back here. Have you ever heard of insect politics? Neither have I. Insects… don’t have politics. They’re very… brutal. No compassion, no compromise. We can’t trust the insect. I’d like to become the first… insect politician. Y’see, I’d like to, but… I’m afraid, uh…
Ronnie: I don’t know what you’re trying to say.
Seth Brundle: I’m saying… I’m saying I – I’m an insect who dreamt he was a man and loved it. But now the dream is over… and the insect is awake.
Ronnie: No. no, Seth…
Seth Brundle: I’m saying… I’ll hurt you if you stay.
I’m a Mistress who dreamt she was a girl and loved it. But now the dream is over … and the Mistress is awake.
See, Jeff Goldbloom there in that scene isn’t remorseful of how he now has to eat food , it’s just a function of being a fly.
Just as I’m not remorseful of not allowing myself to have a boyfriend or husband or even love … it’s just a function of being a Mistress.
Does that mean I stopped having sex alltogether and am a hair’s breath away from running away to joining a convent as a nun? No.
But what if I told you that out of the 200 guys I went on a date with from that Tinder app … I fucked only 1.
He was the most handsome of the whole lot , unbearably handsome … and unbearably stuck up about his looks.
So I tied him to that chair that’s behind my kitchen sink and cuffed his legs to the stool … all within the first 3 minutes of having him back at my condo.
Then with his hands secured behind his back , his mouth gagged and his feet bound – I cut his pants off – with the very same razor sharp kitchen knife that sliced through my ankle last year.
I kissed him , mounted him , and teased myself crazy by only slipping an inch of his dick at most inside my cunt … all the while reaching down and massaging his balls so his dick would pulse like a vibrator.
When I knew I was close to cumming I looked him straight in the eye and slid down just once – burying his entire cock inside me and my body convulsed like I was in an electric chair.
Greatest orgasm of the year. For me at least.
Then I got dressed
And told him exactly this : ” I’m done with you , get dressed and leave immediately.”
Funny thing is , as I stood in the kitchen carving myself slices from an apple , I was predicting – acurately – the exact words he’d say in the minute or two before he left.
WTF. This is a joke right? What about this? (pointing to his raging hard on) You’re fucking mental you know that? You need help. Can we at least talk a bit? What’s wrong with you? You’re a cunt. Bitch.
a state of affairs or an event that seems deliberately contrary to what one expects and is often amusing as a result.
The guy used an app that , well I don’t know about the rest of the world , but in this country it’s an app that get’s 99.9% of the guys who use it – free pussy.
I suppose the reverse irony of the situation is he indeed got what he started out looking for … pussy. Just , not in the way he had quite expected.
Wonder if he considers how I used him to be amusing?
Guess not seeing his usage of the C and B word as he left.
But geez, 30 minutes prior I was “the most gorgeous and interesting girl he’d ever met.”
So what of the other 199 guys? What was their plight?
Well in honesty this all started out as a “how can I get free food and movies for a year?” ploy , I never had intentions of letting things go as far as they did.
But MIstress life at the start of this year was just an ongoing repeat of seducing guys to the point where a) they were in love with me by the end of the 2nd hour and b) their cum would almost hit the ceiling every single orgasm.
Par for the course as you dudes say.
I’ve noted more than a few times in recent stories that the things which fascinate me more and more are the social experiments I’ve done.
It began with the Cuckhold affair a few years back.
Then there was the weight loss guy who lived chained up in my condo for a month with whom I tested his limits of servitude … for nothing more than a bite of food.
Those ordeals were interesting.
I remember thinking of how far I’d come … from the girl who cried asking a guy to kiss her feet … to making a guy chained to my toilet for a month beg me for a drop of my pee as I laughed at him doing so.
Then the Mistress as your Girlfriend sessions started taking off.
It was the natural next step to take.
Like, once you’ve had a guy chained to your toilet for a month, the things that can be done in a 2 hour session pale by comparison.
But making a guy pedal me around Switzerland for 10 hours and then dropping a few fries on the ground for him to pry from my toes with his tonuge … that was the next logical step to take.
Showing these guys what indeed their life would be like if they could fulfill their secret desire and in fact be married to a Mistress as his significant other … even if just for a week.
But what about me? Fun as hell for you, for sure. Every single guy I’ve done a Mistress as a Girlfriend session with has loved every second of it , expensive as it may be.
What did I get out of it though?
Why am I going back to Europe for a third tour of such sessions?
So, I long ago abandoned the thought of entering into a marriage or even a relationship with a guy.
But I’ve ever since been entertaining the idea of just what would a Mistress – Male Variable relationship be like? Is that something I could even consider since a normal relationship is now thoroughly out of the question?
And trust me , I could write about the thousand avenues this thought process could take me , and has taken me.
Is love possible when one knows man’s penchant for blatant dishonesty?
Can you have a relationship with an entity that you no longer see as someone worthy of even a 90/10 balance in the relationship , but yet they are programmed by society to believe it should be a 50/50 proposition?
What’s the probably longevity of such an arrangement?
For instance …
You just paid 10,000 baht for a lovely day with me skydiving , where thereafter we sat and sipped a nice Pinot Grigio at an ocean view restaurant and recounted the harrowing adventure we had just experienced.
We go catch a live band and get into some sexy dirty dancing in the middle of the dance floor … before I instantly discard you and grab another hot guy by his ass from behind and begin dancing with him , all the while smiling at you standing alone over there.
I could go back to our room and have you wait outside while I fuck him silly and then call you in to scrub up the mess on the bed … but instead I decide it’s more fun to play with you as you seem very much like a lost kitten caught in the rain at the dance club.
So back to the hotel we go and you’re tied spread eagled to the bed while I lay on your tummy watching Netflix and playing with your dick for three hours.
Then I loosen one hand so you can untie yourself and wish you a good night sleep as I retire to my room … leaving you on the bed with your throbbing hard on to deal with for the night.
What’s your saying for that? Blowing in the wind, right?
How long can you stay with a girl you’re madly in love with but who leaves you precariously blowing in the wind , not giving you a sliver of a ledge upon which to stand with regards to “us.”
How long would I find such a thing amusing? Before it was time to move on?
Keep in mind as I say “time to move on” my absolute penchant for stone cold leaving a relationship permanantly – in the blink of an eye.
There’s a reason my private Line id avatar is a photo of Alice above.
I’ve always said, if you ever wanted to know who I was before I really fell down the rabbit hole … see the movie Closer and try to understand Alice.
If you want to know exactly what I was like when I was still in my “ok with relationships phase” examine the life of Charlotte “Lost in Translation”
Especially this scene …
and consider that I feel Lost like her , but unlike her I’m still living in my own country.
Strangely , there’s no movie clip for where I’m at in my life right now.
Nobody would ever consider making a movie about somebody so far off the beaten path.
Thing is though, I can take all the 3 day snippet samples I want from these short Mistress as a Girlfriend sessions in Europe. None of them are going to tell me what an actual Mistress / Submissive Pet relationship would be like on a full time basis.
Not to mention , theere’s a myriad of questions in my mind about such an arrangement , any of which I could write a thesis paper about.
Like what you ask?
Well. Can you use a guy as a toilet and respect him enough to want to continue having him around?
What are the long term psychological effects of using a guy as a cuckhold?
At what point does having a guy lick my boots clean every day and worship my feet become so commonplace that there’s just no going back to a vanilla relationship?
Having a submissive male servant is so fulfilling on my end that indeed I could see myself using one permanently – but is it potentially as fulfilling for my pet when he’s being used as such?
So basically what had been happening in my head since the beginning of these Mistress Girlfriend sessions last year is these questions of how far can I go down this road of using a guy , and what reprecussions will it have on my psyche down the road?
Follow along with the thought process here …
I’d already become BrundleFly , or BrundleMistress I suppose. I had begun to approach relationships the way a fly regurgitates on a donut to eat it , a manner entirely different than a human consumes a donut.
Yet I was still feeling lonley like Charlotte above and was no longer willing to pay my personal trainer 20k / month for the priviledge of having somebody to talk to while he made me work out every day.
I wasn’t being inspired by the 2 hour sessions , I just can’t be stagnant in my life , always have to be learning and growing.
And I was falling way too much in love with GrabFood online food delivery , spending up to 2k/day on having food brought to my door.
I’d already been wasting the wee hours of the night after my sessions had concluded by watching Netflix and texting guys who were interested in my profile on Tinder.
But i’d never dated any of them.
Reason? Wasn’t fair to them. I had no interest in a relationship and giving up my pussy for free just ain’t happening again any time soon. So why bother?
Then I had a cunt moment.
A cunt moment can be defined as a predetermined act that I’m quite well aware is a cunt thing to do ; but that being a Mistress grants me full permission to do so.
I decided , “fuck it because mostly every single one of these guys are looking to get their dick wet for minimal expense” and they’re so used to picking on easy fodder that coming across me would seem a whole lot like this Gran Torino scene :
But what about the good guys? Surely I’ll come across a few with nice personalities , I had to think of a ‘fake’ nice way of letting them down easy.
Now granted it took a while to develop this down to a system , but by the end of the first month I had specific stages that men could progress through – tests if you will.
What made setting up these tests so easy as time progressed was the predictable nature of all these men.
Since I consider my readers as submissive intellectuals , as I present to you the diifferent test stages I ask you to be fair to yourself how far you would have gotten , and at which level would you have possibly failed my test?
Ok let’s go …
Test of Basic Communication Skills
While falling short of announcing myself as a Mistress, my Tinder ad warns men in the description that I’m a Lone Wolf for a reason. They’re advised that I’m a very independent girl who has rigorous standards that I’m looking for in a man , and that those looking for a more simple minded female should perhaps look elsewhere as they won’t get very far with me.
I get over a hundred replies a day.
Would you believe that 60% of them can only muster the word ‘Hey’ , ‘Hi’ , or ‘Whats up” in their first message? = insta delete.
Out of the 40% left, 30% of those disqualify themselves by putting the word : babe , sweetheart, bb, gorgeous , hotty , hot one , hot , beautiful … and though it’s two words … ‘look amazing’ is included in the list as well.
Boom, just like that we’re down to 10% of qualified applicants.
My profile talks about my love for animals over humans , it has a bit of wry humor in it, and it definitely talks about some of my interests in life. That a guy comments only on my looks right off the top shows me he’s been guided by his dick all his life.
The 15 Minute Test
So I’ve weeded out 90% of the guys looking for a quick lay which means the remaining 10% are probably good candidates for a relationship right?
Nah. These guys are just a little more crafty , they’ve honed the art of the pick up and know not to flatter a girl right off the top. So for them I have the 15 minute rule.
I’ll chat normally with them all , mostly sticking to humour but am super careful not to say anything at all that could be construed as being sexy and thus an invitation to swing the conversation down a more intimate road.
No … I’ll let them build their own hangman’s noose, as 80% of the 10% will undoubtedly tire within the openeing 15 minutes of normal chit chat and say something sexual.
“Can I just say , fuck your lips are hot. So kissable.” … was the last guy’s comments , just after I had told him about the two injured elephants I support financially.
Fuck, debate me on the lunacy of supporting an elephant.
Complement me on my passion for animals.
Delve into how many other encounters with animals have touched my heart.
But to say “uh huh, uh huh , fuck i want to put my tongue in your mouth” shows me what a neandrathal he is. We say in my language: “kow huu sai , awk huu kwaa” .. in the left ear, out the right. No brain in the middle.
I shouldn’t have to stand up and applaud, fucking applaud with thunderous clapping of my hands that a guy can put off his dick’s desires for 15 minutes and carry on a normal conversation. But that’s the Tinder standard of men.
The Cab Ride Test
Remember that I can only go on a single date in any given day , and it’s usually in the afternoon before my bdsm bookings begin arriving at 7pm.
So there has to be a way to get down quickly to 2 or 3 candidates and the above simple process does that hastily.
Now we’re down to the guys who make it to a first date.
I’m hot. Fucking hot.
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the second a guy lays eyes on me for the first time that his brain is short circuted. They look at the swoop of my back and how it blends into the tight curve of my ass … and they lose their mind.
That it’s a Tinder date only amplifies the assumed premise of the date from their perspective … get their dick inside me at all costs in a few hours hence.
To help facilitate that fantasy I’ll play along … I’ll let them hold my hand , or grab my by my waist for the more bold. I’ll let them run their fingers through my hair over a martini , and I’ll even let their foot accidentally brush up against my leg under the table over dinner.
We all have personal space, a force field around us that’s subliminaly conjured for the most part.
The suavest of men will know that a simple repeated touch is a cunning way to quietly disarm that force field around woman , and they will have all sorts of routines they run to accomplish this.
Perhaps it’s a brush of the shoulder with their hand , or a kind gesture to wipe food off my face during dinner. The leg brush I’ve already mentioned … oh there’s so many ways they purport to break down my barrier.
Remember , if there is one technique I’ve mastered by being a Mistress for the past decade , it’s the art of cold – turkey – frustration.
In that … be it a sudden release of your dick just a second before it’s about to explode after an hour of teasing , and I go take a shower leaving it to bob in the wind as you whisper out loud ‘what the fuck is she doing?’ Not realizing that the session just abruptly finished and the aching set of blue balls I just induced is going to last a fortnight until you see me again.
Or be it the taxi ride I’m about to explain to you …
I’m the queen of throwing cold water in the face of men who think they’re steadily progressing with me in some way.
So I’ll let the guy hug me after dinner as we walk hand in hand to the curb and hail a taxi.
I’ll even open the door for him and slap him playfully on his ass as he gets in first.
But it’s the slamming of the door that snaps him back to reality. When he realizes he’s sitting in the cab alone and i’m tapping on the window with my thumb knuckle getting him to roll down the window.
I’ll kindly thank him for a wonderful dinner and such a pleasant conversation.
I’ll then tell him that he’s welcome to message me in the future – if he so desires.
Then I spin around and give him a good long look at my disappearing ass as I saunter away from the cab … and wait.
He’ll do one of three things.
- He’ll get out of the cab and make a small scene , and every single time this has happened he’s let it slip out in some form that he expected ‘more’ to the evening. As in sex of course. And so ends his ‘relationship’ with me, permanently.
- He’ll take the cab ride and message me at first playfully , and then with more and more disdain and unkind words.
Or he’ll wait a couple of days , and message me again. Let me tell you , the guys who do … a rare breed indeed – but still they’re set up to fail the next test.
The Test of Three
For it takes three dates , or to be more specific – three dinners to qualify for a primary invite back to my condo.
May I recount a funny story to you as told to me over dinner by one of these Tinder guys?
First off , that this guy had either the balls or the cluelessness to tell me this story – well , hat’s off to him. I’ve never seen a guy cock block himself so badly as this guy did.
This guy was showing off that during his time as a boxer up at Team Quest in Chiang Mai that he met a girl from Hang Dong , a town just on the outsikrts of CM , whom he invited via Tinder for a noodle date.
He picked her up at Airport Plaza up there on the premise that he was going to take her out for 40 baht noodle dinner , but instead stopped off at a short time hotel first.
He said he fucked her – and then apologized for not having time for noodles, but he’d make it up to her.
The next week he called her again and picked her up at the same location , and once again instead of going for noodles , he took her to the short time hotel and plowed her pussy.
Stupid fucking girl even agreed for a third time by his recount before she finally grew wise to his “trickery” and forced him to move on to using the same tactic on another girl.
I ordered NY Striploin steak that night, with 2 bacon and sour cream filled potatoes , soup , cheesecake and 4 glasses of Long Island Ice Tea and ran his bill to 6,000 baht … because my “noodle joint” happened to be El Gaucho Steakhouse , the most expensive restaurant on my soi.
You can imagine probably – the look on his face when I subjected him to the cab ride test above.
Point is, I”m no country girl fool.
Original Mistress Jaa fucked exactly 3 guys in her 10 year reign as a domina , and received on average 1 million baht per fuck. That’s the standard I’ve followed ever since.
To get an invite back to my condo , it takes 3 such dinners. No more, no less.
And just like that , we’ve cut the Tinder hopefulls down to .1% … men who actually set foot inside my condo.
Don’t you feel lucky? You’ve set foot in a place … my bedroom … that thousands upon thousands of men before you have failed.
The Netflix Test
When I think back to the time when I allowed myself to date and was able to open up my heart , the best dates were the ones where my boy would be fiddling on his laptop with one hand and caressing my toes with his other while I would be dozing off to sleep trying to watch a movie on tv.
Or one guy , in the furnace heat of Bangkok actually showed up wearing a pearl white sweater – as an inside joke because I always ran my condo so very cold … and I still do.
There was nothing like sinking back into that soft wool and feeling his heart beat wildly as he carassed my shoulders and we watched Queen of the South on Netflix for 10 hours straight.
The point I suppose is there was once a time where I loved romantic lazy days. I was always good at letting my guy do his own thing while I did mine – within intimate proximity of one another and didn’t have to speak a word while enjoying each other’s company very much.
Gone are those days , but the test remains.
Every guy who’s somehow managed to make it back to my condo over the past year was asked to bring something to eat and drink while we watched a movie.
Fuck, I don’t have actual numbers of guys who’ve made it that far with me, but I’m going to guess about 30. So sue me if I’m wrong, but it feels around that number, more or less.
The test itself? Can they go an evening without exploring my breasts , lips, pussy and ass? Or can they just enjoy a pleasant evening in the company of a girl and not make love but nice conversation instead?
Sadly , no.
Again reinforcing that Bangkok is such a transient city and the nature of pretty much all encounters within are sexually based , it’s sad that I can count on one hand the guys who made it to the next test.
That’s not to say I didn’t let them have a good fondle.
I’d time the movie so that by the appearance of the closing credits each guy had such a hard woody in his pants that it was literally lifting my ass off his body.
Then I’d coldly show him the door , and block his Line or WeChat as soon as he left.
Side note : the verbal profanity that came in the hours / days after this failed stage made it absolutely necessary to make a mental note to immediately block the guy after he was kicked out of my place.
Like holy hell, you’d think that filtering guys through five levels of tests some cream would rise to the top , ya?
Well it does, just that … it’s sour cream apparently.
The Control Test
“Control … control, you must learn control” one of my favourite lines from Yoda …
For my test of ultimate self control I ask one question : Can you lay beside a goddess in her bed for a night – and keep your hands and dick to yourself?
Especially when she’s wearing a see through lingerie nighty and her ass is curved but an inch from your rock hard dick.
The Queen of Frustration. Except you boys are thoroughly trained in the art of frustration , you as submissive slaves already have high levels of tolerance built in.
What of the common pretty boy who’s looking for a lay and has passed all the tests. Is he wise enough to pass this final one?
It was certain the first one was going to fail dramatically , and fail he did within the first thirty minutes.
For him I turned over , grabbed his dick through his sleeper shorts and spanked the head of his cock with one vicious slap. Message served.
The second guy who managed an invite to my bed took it upon himself to grind into my ass at 4 in the morning. He too got the vicious slap , except on his balls not his dick.
In the morning they both streched out on the bed and funnily asked the exact same question “what are we doing today?”
“I’m going to the gym , you’re going home. You can use the guest room shower and show yourself to the door, I’m leaving in a few minutes so be quick.”
Both guys thought it would be a good idea to put their foot down and begin an argument at 8am in the morning in the hallway to the bathroom.
See, through it all , there is always this expectation of sex – that’s the payoff. Be it instant gratification or further down the road, if the expectation is not met – there’s hell to pay.
Except as I recounted for you before, sex is going to be on my terms. I’m going to use you and discard you. The average Tinder Joe doesn’t understand that.
The line of “there’s the door , either show yourself out or I’ll have security come up and escort you out” washes down like a straight shot of Apple Cider Vinegar.
But I had to use it in both cases.
The Test of Love
What to do with those two?
I didn’t know. I still don’t.
On the next date I invited them to dinner at my expense – a noodle joint , ironically as I didn’t expect the evening to last more than a few minutes in each case.
I told them – I can never get married.
I can’t see the purpose of a guy as anything more than either a sex toy, or a friend with benefits.
But when the benefits run out , all things end in an instant of time.
There’s no future. There’s no relationship to be had.
There’s no love as I will never be foolish enough to trust in something so ridiculous again.
I told them both with a straight face as I sprinkled chilli on my soup that I’m in the business of seducing men and that I’m probably the best in Asia if not the world at my job.
Told them I would have no problem locking their dick up and throwing the key in the river if they dared to displease me.
Guy #2 said matter of factly “get fucked” and left as I supposed he would three minutes into the discussion.
Guy #1 ate his soup in silence which to me was as curious a reaction as could be – so I let him.
And when he reached the end of his bowl he looked up at me and said “you can lock my dick up for as long as you want, I just want to get to know you.”
“You fool” was my whispered reply.
I grabbed him by his chin with one finger, tilted his head up to follow me as I rose and walked around to his side of the table.
Then I kissed him. Passionately.
Told him not to call me again … and walked away not just from him but probably love as well.
In doing so I came to terms that it kind of sucks being the controlled variable. The constant. The unchanged.
And ultimately , the unloving.
But I’m a fucking great Mistress though.