There’s a total protonic reversal going on in the upcoming month of March.
That’s right, you heard me, I’m talking Old Testament, real wrath of God type stuff.
Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies! Rivers and seas boiling! Two weddings back to back ! A one week long session ! Dogs and cats living together !
Mass Hysteria !!!
It had to happen right? What with Einstein’s theory of relativity finally proven to be true last week, we now know that it’s possible to bend time and space. That’s what’s happening here, how else could so many once in an era events be taking place so close to one another in March? Isn’t it clear? What’s happened is that space and time have folded upon itself , converging on a particular point in the month of March. How else could one explain both of my last two friend’s weddings falling within the same week?
Then as time re-expands, what was surely meant to be a 2 hour session got stretched as the elasticity of space returns to cover it’s normal measurement and the session time got stretched with it to now cover a one week period of time. Bizarre n’est pas?
My whole building is a huge super-conductive antenna that was designed and built expressly for the purpose of pulling in and concentrating sexual turbulence. Your goddess lives in the corner penthouse of Dick Central.
So as a result of this disturbance in the space time continuum , I’m announcing that I won’t be booking any sessions in March from the 7th to the 13th and then again from the 18th to the 27th.
Anybody who is in desperate need of a focused, non-terminal repeating orgasm, or a Class Five full-roaming cumshot (real nasty one, too!) can go ahead and book Mistress Wael. Send her a form request below.
And there you go , that’s my best attempt at making an “i’m busy in March” post seem amusing.
…and seriously, they’re remaking Ghostbusters? How does one hope to top that which is already perfect? Dan … Dan … Dan … (shakes head disapprovingly)
Femdom sessions aren’t the only thing I host here at my condo. My Muay Thai trainer comes about three times a week and my English adviser comes about twice in that same time frame, so on the days youre little vampire mistress emails you at 1pm in the afternoon and you ask me “what are you doing up when the sun’s up?” , well now you know why. Out of the two, my English tutor is more blunt telling me outright “it’s shit” when I go over a blog story I’m about to post with him whereas my Muay Thai coach simply smiles and says “it’s ok, you’ll learn.”
I prefer it when people are frank with me, it means more often than not that they are genuinely concerned about what they are trying to teach me, and I assumed that since he had been so frank with me over the past year he’d appreciate my tendency to speak frankly as well. Sadly, that wasn’t the case and he’s more than a little bit perturbed that I lost him two students in the course of a week. Let me explain.
I tend to get desperately frustrated with my English as I say what I’m thinking while trying to be as straight to the point as possible which he calls caveman level English proficiency, and he’ll go on endlessly telling me that I need a bigger brush to paint a grander picture in my reader’s minds. Personally, if I tell you I had a guy’s cock in my hand and pressed against my thigh while I looked into his eyes and asked him innocently why he was whimpering … you’ll get exactly the recreation of what happened in a session a few hours earlier right?
I’ll send him my draft and it’ll come back with “utter shit, try again” marked on it. After three or four back and forth exchanges like that I’ve about fucking had it with him, and that same sentence reads something like : “his veiny thick purple throbbing cock pulsed in my hand as he felt me press against the unbearably hot surface of my moist damp loins. I thus gazed into his glazed eyes, lost like a ship at sea, and whispered ever so gently into his ear a tender secret that made him whimper in erotic resignation.”
Then I get emails saying my writing is too wordy , fuck.
If you noticed, I went basically all of January refusing to write a story as my relationship with him hit a boiling point, to the extent that I found it very frustrating and not fun at all to write any more. Had my Muay Thai been going any better I’d have given him my 1,3,2 combination and be done with him.
To patch things up, he tried telling me ‘your English isn’t as shit as I make it out to be” many times but I’d sort of lost confidence in myself. Those ‘five best sessions of 2015’ stories were nearly the end of me, the hardest and least fun stories I’ve ever written. When I cancelled our fourth session in a row earlier in January he came to my condo unannounced and asked to sit down and talk things out with me and I reluctantly agreed. Instead of talking in my condo we went down and talked by the pool on one of those super breezy frigid mornings last month.
He told me he had two students that he had a hard time getting through to because of various reasons and that perhaps me coming along with him that day to help him do conversational English would help him make his lesson better at least for that day, and at the same time would give me a measuring stick with which to compare my English against somebody else’s. At the time , this was 2nd week of January and I had turned down nearly all my session requests as they weren’t inspiring in the least, and it was just before the flu bug hit me so I was rather bored sitting at home all day. I agreed to go with him, one being a session that morning from 11-1 at Rachadamri and a second session from 2-4 in the afternoon up in Muang Thong Thani.
So off we go on the bts to one of the luxury condo’s just off of Ratchadamri station , the rich bitch part of town , to meet his student , a late 20’s Thai girl who had done so much plastic surgery to her face that it looked wax like. It was the first thing I noticed and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her cheeks, I wanted to reach across and scratch at her skin to see if chunks of plastic would break off onto the poolside floor.
Her name was Bo, and she had a sidekick with her , fuck , can’t remember her name , but this chick was her secretary.
“What are you a secretary of exactly?” I asked the girl at one point when Bo had left to answer her 32nd consecutive phone call.
“I’m her secretary” she replies.
“And what does that job entail?” I answered right back.
“I plan her alarm clock, order her breakfast, drive her to where she wants to go, stuff like that.”
Fuck. She plans this girls alarm clock. I didn’t know such a device needed planning. I feel bad that I’ve simply thrown out the instruction manuals of all the alarm clocks I’ve bought in my life, obviously I’ve been missing some key details.
So Bo , she’s clearly pissed off that I’m there for her lesson. But that’s fine, I was really enjoying soaking the rays of ‘stupid matter’ this girl was transmitting. There’s matter, then there’s dark matter, and unbeknownst to scientists, there’s stupid matter, a black hole of space then spews out protons of stupidity. This chicks stupid matter was the size of a black hole that had consumed another larger black hole.
For every time in our little skit my tutor would ask a question in her direction, she’d lean over and consult with her secretary the way a defendant would consult with his lawyer before answering. Each time she did it my heel started tapping on the floor , you know, like how you ground an electrical circuit so the excess charge dissipates into the ground? … my heel was for that same purpose, the dissipation of frustration.
“Are you ok” he asked me after calling for a 5 minute break.
“She’s a walking retard” I said, “you can’t teach that, her brain is binary, one bit of information, on / off. That’s all she can comprehend.”
“You see yet why I said your English isn’t as shit as I told you it is?”
I paused, then nodding in agreement I said “point taken.”
Bo comes back with her secretary and asks Ian to cancel the rest of the class. I couldn’t resist , I blurted out , “don’t you need your secretary to do that for you, it’s such an unnecessary effort to make the cancellation request yourself?”
She scowls at me and says in Thai , khun mai ruu luang, which translates directly to ‘ you don’t know the story’ which means “you don’t know anything.”
“I know that if you didn’t have a pussy, waxed as it probably is from surgery, you’d be sucking dick for food.”
“Ok we’ll be going now” Ian said pulling at my hand to leave the swimming pool level. Apparently he’s never heard from her again.
I was feeling a lot better about my English though, I told him as much and promised to bite my tongue better at the second class. Fuck me, if Bo was Tweedle Dee , Khun Taa was Tweedle Dumb. Before we could get to see Taa though, there was the 40 minute taxi ride up to Impact arena where he gave me some more insight to Bo’s personal life and how she is a distressed woman. Bo travels to France to see her special psychologist for her depression, a sadness brought about by the fact that her boyfriend gives her 500,000 spending money a day and she has run out of ways to spend it fast enough.
Too bad Ian’s name wasn’t Bob, or this scene would fit perfectly with how to cure Bo’s depression …
oo
Now Taa , different dog, same fleas.
He never got a chance to properly do any of the roleplay dialogue he had carefully planned for her (he wrote out his lesson in the taxi on the way up) because if the chick wasn’t on the phone she was staring at the blinking lights of the SET stock market on her IPad.
Taa hated me being there more than Bo did. As I told you in my story yesterday, whether I’m at a high society dance club like I was at Ku-de-ta , or at one of these brain dead bitches’ houses, they are repelled by non name brand wearing girls like me as much as broccoli repels fat kids. They can smell the village life on my skin or something, and the disdain they hold for me … well there’s no effort at all to hide it from their faces. Especially so for Taa. Fuck this girl puts the um in dumb.
The skit, I remember it perfectly. I was to be the waitress in a restaurant, and Taa’s job was to call me over using her two new words of the day, “bring and take” , and no matter how many times Ian corrected her , she’d still say “Waitress, take me some water”.
I tried to correct her in Thai once …. once.
She could throw actual daggers from her eyes, … made in China daggers.
So anyways, bringing me now to why I wanted to sit and write all this dribble today. She has her ipad open the whole time on her desk and for the entire hour she maybe took her eyes off of it for 2 minutes tops. Her stocks were having a bad day. She caught me looking over at it one time and she took the opportunity to hold it up to show me.
“red bad, green good” she said in remarkably perfect English. “Today bad” she added.
I looked at the stock symbol and the company name, an unheard of clothing manufacturing business, domestic of course since it’s an SET traded stock. I was about to ask her what the market capitalization of the company was in Baht when she click closed her ipad and said in Thai so Ian wouldn’t comprehend, “too much for you to understand.”
So you know, big mouth me. I can’t remember word for word how it came out but I told her , in English , “well gold has sold off 50% from it’s all time high 5 years ago and I’ve been buying gold because buying at 50% off is a good idea and buying at 62% off is even better, but I don’t think gold will retrace that much, so better to buy now.”
I paused, and then added in Thai … “sorry but that’s too much for you to understand isn’t it?” and giggled.
Session cancelled, just like that, go figure.
It’s true. Unlike 99.999% of Thai’s who believe gold can only trend in one direction, up , I sold what gold I had 5 years ago quite near the top to help pay for my trip to study oversees and I’ve been waiting for a chance to buy it back, especially now that I’ve finished paying off all my past debts. So back in December I went and had 2 gold necklaces’s to display my opals and a diamond ring made for me, all 3 of my design. (white gold, i dislike yellow gold)
Total cost was 1/4 million baht and as of market close today, a scant two months later, their value sits at 281,000 baht, or a 21% increase had I bought shares on the GLD. Guess I’ll have to wait to be American to be able to trade like that.
Meanwhile Taa’s looking at her ipad every day, with her little red lights flickering back at her day in and day out walking around her rapidly depreciating house and investments saying “today bad, today bad, take me water, take me water.”
Sorry chick, should have read the tea leaves. Fuck that story is in English though, shame she can’t read.
So needless to say, Ian hasn’t taken me with him on any more teaching excursions since that day. He’s gonna be pissed when he reads this too cuz I’m not sending it to him to proofread. But that day did give me the push I needed to write again. Even if this story is what it is …
“You’re where? In Bangkok , as in , right now you’re in Bangkok? and you’re dropping by in a few minutes?”
That’s me talking to two of my last remaining single girlfriends on Friday as they dropped the bomb on me that they’re in town and looking to finalize their wedding plans with me, something which I can’t say no to seeing as though I’m both their bridesmaids for their dual March weddings. Perhaps they could sense the trepidation in my voice even though I took a deep breath before continuing on with the conversation.
“Yes, that’s, that’s just fine” I said as I curled up my lip and looked regrettably at the four dildos boiling in the pot on my stove and the other thirty or so femdom items that were lined up to be sterilized subsequently.
“I need a coffee before you come over (and a heart rate monitor for that matter) so see you in 20 minutes ok? 10??? (fuck the heart rate monitor, I need anti-heart attack pills) , ya ok 10, cya”
Just like that, a breakfast of Eggs Benedict with a side order of Cooked Rubber Cock not only got put on immediate hold , but unless I wanted to scar my innocent-as-bambi girlfriends eyes permanently i had 9 1/2 minutes to complete Operation Cover-Up.
Luckily I plan ahead for such things and all the bdsm toys are kept in the second unused bedroom which looks like a shrine to Femdom. Pretty much every inch of shelf or furniture in that room holds some sort of pleasure or restraining device. Some people have lava lamps , I have electrical stimulation rods.
Some have metal art as a talking piece, I have metal urethral tubes as a teasing piece.
Some hang art , I hang restraining devices.
They say every girl has a skeleton in the closet , well I have a Cinderella dress – size 42 , sissy clothes in all men’s sizes , and four … count them … four pvc rubber latex suits that make me look like Cat Woman when I wear them. Hell I even have Cat Woman’s whip. Meow.
So ten minutes later they call me and instead of saying they’re in the lobby like all you guys do the only thing my friend keeps repeating in Thai is “you live here ? You fucking live here? How? This is luxury, how the fuck do you live here?”
Hmm. Compared to sleeping on the floor in a run down dilapidated village home my condo is the equivalent of Buckingham Palace to them, something which totally slipped my mind. I had to put the handcuffs back on the shelf beside the forced mouth opening device ( it’s for guys who think they can opt out at the last second being under my ass at an unfortunate time – no – uh uh) , then I locked the door and hid the key in the bra of one of the dolls hidden in the depths of my bedroom closet.
They were like kids in a candy shop when they rushed into my condo – grabbing, opening, and touching everything they could see.
“English? You read books in English?” the one who’s getting married first said as she ran her fingers along the books on my living room shelf stopping to casually open my dearest one, To Kill A Mockingbird , and then read out the author’s name “Haw paw Lee … he is Chinese?”
“Possibly” I said in English taking the book from her and putting it back up beside The Poems of Wilfred Owen where it belongs. I must have stood a second too long with a mournful look on my face as for whatever reason I decided subconsciously to take that particular moment to pay a moment’s respect to the passing of Harper Lee.
She said ‘arai’ – “what?” in Thai and I shrugged it off as nothing, interrupted suddenly by the screams of the other one as she hopped up and down with my blu-ray player in both her hands like she was holding a baby.
“Do you want to see?” I asked as I shuffled my fingers through my dvd collection settling on Oh Brother Where Art ‘Thou. They both settled in with their feet up on my tan sofa and grabbed a pillow each to hold against their chest as I turned the TV on and played the video. But when I turned around my heart crashed to my toes as my eyes were immediately drawn to Fang – my nail toothed chastity device which was sitting right where I had left it during Thursday nights session, on the sofa – except now that space was being occupied by my two best friends – and Mr.Fang was happily watching the tv come to life right between them. Luckily it was slightly sunken into the space between the sofa’s backrest and the seat cushion so I – like a kid – dashed to the couch and did a ballet leap with a 180 twist and landed between them both pushing Fang deep into the crack with the force of my ass.
This was going to be an interesting three days I thought to myself.
It’s now Monday morning as I write this and I’ve survived the three days. Barely.
It’s been hell, and now I have a clear understanding of what Peter Parker or Clark Kent must have gone through. I’ll take my loner Cat Woman lifestyle over Spider man’s life any day of the week because Peter must be a basket case of shattered nerves trying to burn the candle at both ends like this.
Take Saturday for example, hell on ice. If we go back to Friday night, with everybody in Bangkok who even remotely knows me calling me because they saw my photo in two of this city’s more popular magazines and saying “girl we saw you on Ku-De-Ta’s ad”, my girlfriends wanted to see it for themselves. KuDeTa isn’t a place for me , it’s a very hi-so luxury nightclub where the drinks are 500 baht a pop and you had better be wearing a designer name brand to avoid being peered down at by snobby rich bitch noses. Thing is , if you tallied up the collective IQ of every girl at the place, you’d hardly break 100.
Which makes it all the more pleasing to walk in there with my 800 baht H&M ‘name brand’ dress and purposefully stealing rich acting dudes from wet pussy dripping gold diggers, only to throw them back into the water upon leaving at 5am. It pisses girls off to no end.
Thing is, while my two girlfriends passed out on the couch within moments of getting back to my condo , I had to charge my phone and answer email from my phone while my bedroom was spinning like a top. Somewhere around 10am I got through my emails and I kind of cheated out a quick blog story by using an email I had answered earlier in the week. I pretty much collapsed into my pillow the very moment I posted that story, a few seconds before noon.
“Wake up, wake the fuck up, get up!!!”
They were shaking me seconds after I had closed my eyes. In reality, it was 2 in the afternoon so I had grabbed exactly two hours sleep, the exact same amount I had stolen the night before. We spent the day looking for bridesmaid dresses and by the time we hit the fifth shop I was on my sixth coffee downing them at a rate of about a cup an hour.
Cat Woman takes cat naps, I don’t. At 9pm I had to be at Lebua’s roof top patio bar to enchant one of my favorite slaves. At around 11pm he offered me some poppers to get high. Offering poppers to a girl on her 8th cup of Espresso inside of 7 hours is like offering a Tylenol to cure a headache after being hit by a bus.
My dress might have been a killer, and I may have been drawing a lot of looks, but by the time 11pm drew near I was hearing people talk like Charlie Brown’s teacher , everything sounded like “waa waa waa waa”. I was approaching two full days on three hours sleep and with the caffeine wearing off I felt like a post hemorrhoid surgery hospital patient on her first day of morphine.
There was this one moment when I was slapping his face in public and I could hear the reverberation of the impact echo in my head three times over every time I struck him.
A sane girl would have gone home after that but I guess I’m far from sane. Instead of sensibly going home I went out dancing again with my friends, the 3th consecutive night (yes 3rth) , and once again we got home at 5am.
Dead Cat Walking.
How tired was I? I had one of those dreams that runs like an eight hour movie where I was seducing my mother, was fully aware of how much I wanted to wake up and dream about something else, but couldn’t until I had fondled her in every which way my sub conscious deemed possible.
I don’t party like this very often. I suppose if I’m looking for a silver lining in how intense the past three days has been it’s that in three short weeks they’ll both be married and I’ll officially be the last girl from my home town to remain single and I’ll have nobody to party with again.
That’s fine, I’m CatWoman after all, destined to be a crime fighting, man seducing, loner super hero mistress.
khal xx
[formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts]
Apologies for the long email but I would really appreciate any help or advice you can offer.
I need to give you some background to put my situation in context. I’ve been married for fifteen years and before we got married I told my wife about my fetishes and for a long while she played along and indulged me. After some time though it became too much for her and to be fair I pushed too hard and she became worried that it would keep escalating until one day I would want a sex change. For the record, I enjoy dressing or being made to dress occasionally but enjoy being a man too and have no intention and never have of transitioning. Besides I don’t make a very pretty girl 🙁
Anyway I failed to convince her and she got fed up with it and any sort of kinky play stopped completely. She was the first person I ever told and I was really hurt and angry that I’d shared an extremely personal part of myself and after being accepted to start with was ultimately rejected. At the same time I couldn’t get rid of the urges, and I kept experimenting with makeup etc. when I was alone and watching sissy/bdsm porn behind her back, which ultimately drove us further and further apart. I’ve tried talking to her and resolving the issue but I’ve realised that I don’t want to share that side of my personality with her any more (I’m also extremely hesitant and nervous to share it with anyone else which is probably why I came across as being shy). I also realised that the dom/sub part of my fantasies is an extremely important part of it for me and she doesn’t have a dominant bone in her body.
That said, parts of our life together are really great and despite everything I still love her and care about her very much. Is it worth sacrificing that to satisfy my sexual kinks and desires? The last two years it feels like we’ve become more like housemates than partners and any spark between us has gone. When I decided to take this trip on my own we both saw it as a temporary/trial split and she encouraged me to do whatever makes me happy, even suggesting meeting up with a ladyboy! Still I haven’t told her about anything that’s happened here and she has recently told me she wants to try again and now I feel like I have betrayed her. At the same time I can’t stop thinking about my time with you and desperately want to explore more.
Our session was incredible and I loved every minute of submitting to your every wim, despite (and maybe because of) the humiliation. I loved being at your feet and made to look and smell like a sissy girl for you and being forced to kiss your toes and suck your cock. When you made my cock kiss your dildo cock I thought I would die from humiliation and pleasure at the sound of your wicked giggles.
So the question is do I continue to realise my deepest fantasies and risk losing everything or do I try to lead a “normal” life and make it work with her? In which case do I tell her about everything that’s happened?
I don’t expect you to have all the answers but I’m at my wits end and don’t have anybody else to turn to. I would really appreciate your thoughts.
Thank you,
xxxxx
jaa4u.com | Goddess
3:21 AM (23 minutes ago)
to xxxxx
I have all the answers I just don’t know if they are the right ones.
One thing that you should have considered before you told her the first time is that there is a conflict between what you like personally and what women like in men historically. If i drew a circle and the represented the % of women that are attracted by instinct to a man who is one of these : dangerous , strong , masculine , risk taker , rough , fighter : then that circle would represent 95% of the female population i’d say. I’d then have to draw a tiny circle inside of that bigger circle which would represent 5% of the women who are perfectly fine being with a submissive man no matter how feminine his fetishes are.
That’s because of the other driving force of society , which is that a great deal of us not only give a fuck what others think of us but they prioritize it.
To be fine with a request like yours, a woman would have to have two particular qualities. The first of which being, she’d have to have an open mind to all sexual fetishes which would go hand in hand with not giving a fuck what society thinks.
Now I don’t think it’s hard to see that your wife has none of those qualities unfortunately, but like I said, to find a woman like that you’d have to be pretty fortunate or you’d have to have sampled a hundred or more girls. Not likely since submissive men don’t have as easy a time getting girls as men who have the qualities I’ve listed above.
Your wife is probably in stage three of her thought process about you. She’s gone from happily married, to “who the fuck did I marry” and thus switched her magnetic polarity towards you, and is now at the point where she thinks “ok I either get a fuck toy and never have marital sex again, or I deal with this thing which really creeps me out but I did say for better or worse.”
It may sound like I’m glorifying the traits of the few but I’m not because there’s a flip side to that coin.
Guys in the 95 percentile can’t hang with a girl like me from the 5% group. If the number one reason I’m still single is because I flew out of the chute in the wrong country, the second biggest reason then is that men can’t stand my openness to sex and sexual fetishes.
For instance, if I’m at a club with a guy I’m dating and I see he’s flirting with another girl, I’ll openly tell him to go with her, fuck her as he wishes so long as he wears a condom, and I’ll see him on our next date. Guys think that’s both cool and awesome until he’s just finished emptying himself into her and as he collapses back on the bed connecting once again to his cranial brain he realizes … ‘maybe what’s good for the goose is good for the gander?”
Then he gets chills down his spine as he realizes I’m fifty times hotter than she is and whereas he finished inside of three minutes, I’m most likely still fucking the brains out of my pocket lover in a condo far, far away.
There’s good and bad with every lifestyle we choose to follow , I’m trying to figure out how to not be single , and you’re trying to figure out how to stay happily married with this perfectly fine fetish of yours.
You need to be honest with yourself and categorize your wife. Into which category does she fall? For if she isn’t in the open minded category as I am , leave your fetish out of the bedroom. It is something which you should have revealed to her before you got married , and by her reaction she’s clearly not ok with it , so don’t force it upon her.
Be the guy she wants you to be and openly tell her that you’re going to visit a mistress for a way to express your urges and definitely reassure her that such sessions are completely non-sexual. Emphasize to her … since she’s in the majority group that believes in monogamy, that she’s the only one you would ever consider having sex with because you love being intimate with her and her alone. It’s better to be the spreader of bullshit if it leads to happiness.
Thank you for the compliments, it was a very fun session indeed.
Your goddess xx
[formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts]
November 1997
• Enron buys out a partner’s stake in a company called JEDI and sells the stake to a firm it creates, called Chewco, to be run by an Enron officer. Thus begins a complex series of transactions that enable Enron to hide debts.
• A married man’s life seems headed for divorce, but not wanting to go without sex , establishes a relationship with a bar girl on the other side of the world. Thus begins a complex series of sexual transactions that enable the married man to hide his true life while pretending to carry on a new relationship.
February 20, 2001
• A FORTUNE story calls Enron a “largely impenetrable” company that is piling on debt while keeping Wall Street in the dark.
• Bar girl realizes the married man’s real life story is “largely impenetrable” that is piling on bullshit while keeping the whore in the dark.
April 17
• Enron chairman Ken Lay meets with Vice President Dick Cheney and other energy-policy officials; it’s one of six such visits.
• Married man’s wife Neva GivaLay meets with her spouse, reminds him she owns his balls and half his assets , it’s one of six such reminders.
August 14
• CEO Jeffrey Skilling resigns, becoming the sixth senior executive to leave in a year. Lay says in a conference call with stock analysts, “I never felt better about the company.” He deflects analysts’ pleas for more disclosure. They lower their ratings on Enron stock, which drops in after-hours trading to a 52-week low.
• Married man’s other whore resigns, becoming the sixth whore that he’s slept with to leave in a year. Married man says in a phone call with his whore, “I have never felt better about us”. he deflects her pleas for more disclosure. Suspecting finally he might not be single, she lowers her expectations on married man’s stock, which drops after another bout of unpaid sex to a 52 week low.
October 12
• Arthur Andersen legal counsel instructs workers who audit Enron’s books to destroy all but the most basic documents.
• Married man’s legal briefcase which he brings every visit to his hotel room contains only the most basic documents, always locked, and always off limits when using the room to fuck.
October 16
• Enron reports a third-quarter loss of $618 million. Moody’s investors Service indicates that it is considering lowering its credit rating on Enron debt securities.
• Bar girl whore reports a third quarter loss of revenue because married man has stopped paying for sex. She considers lowering her pussy availability for married man’s dick.
October 22
• Enron discloses that the Securities Exchange Commission has opened an inquiry.
• Married man accidentally discloses that the SEC (suspicious ex cunt) has opened an inquiry to his possible sexual activities oversees.
October 24
• Chief financial officer Andrew Fastow, who ran some of Enron’s stealth partnerships, is replaced.
• Bar girl whore, who has been opening her legs thinking there is a future if she does so, is replaced.
October 26
• The Wall Street Journal reports the existence of the Chewco partnerships run by an Enron manager. Ken Lay calls Fed Chairman Alan Greenspan to alert him of the company’s problems.
• Facebook post reports the existence of Married man’s affair. Married man forever deletes his Facebook and wisely removes himself from all social media solving all of his future problems.
October 28
• Lay calls Treasury Secretary Paul O’Neill. In October and November, Enron’s president phones an O’Neill deputy at least six times, seeking help.
• Having been caught with his hand in the pussy jar, Married man phones his lawyer at least six times, seeking help.
October 29
• Lay calls Commerce Secretary Donald Evans, suggesting he help Enron.
• Married man contacts Commerce Secretary otherwise known as local ATM , suggesting he withdraw all remaining money while he can.
November 8
• Enron admits accounting errors, inflating income by $586 million since 1997.
• Married man admits additional counting errors, having inflating his Craigslist internet penis size by 586%
November 9
• Lay again talks to Treasury’s O’Neill.
• Married man visits his 423rd ATM inside 48 hours.
November 29
• The SEC expands its investigation to include auditor Arthur Andersen.
• The Suspicious Ex Cunt expands her investigation to include other bar girl whores her soon to be ex husband has slept with.
December 2
• Enron files for bankruptcy.
• Married man and wife file for divorce. Married man subsequently files for what will be eventual bankruptcy.
December 12
• Andersen CEO Joseph Berardino testifies his firm discovered “possible illegal acts” committed by Enron.
• Married man’s friend Joseph Yugotburnedbro testifies to his buddy that he’d like to use his whore for his own “possible illegal acts’ and begin his own Rosetta Stone home study language course.
January 9, 2002
• The Justice Department launches a criminal investigation.
• Millions of other married men launch an investigation of this magical land of bar girls and plan their own future trip.
January 10
• Attorney General John Ashcroft rescues himself from the investigation because of contributions he received from Enron. Andersen acknowledges destroying Enron files.
• Married man’s best friends travel to said magical land to make their own sperm contributions. Friends’ thereafter acknowledge destroying former married man’s whore’s anus.
• The cycle perpetually repeats itself.
kha xx
[formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts]
Today’s the day I get all kinds of nice emails and sms from married men saying the most romantic things to me such as …
“I would so take it up the ass for you”
“Me, You, Champagne, Lube? ! ”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, you make my Willy happy.”
“I love you like a fat kid loves cake”
“Will you sit on my face and glaze me like a doughnut now that I’ve sent you a card?”
I’ve long since dubbed this day as being Single’s Awareness Day. You know, the day that celebrate’s the male species inability to commit, made up for by buying an army of teddy bears, chocolates and flowers. There’s a shelf in my closet, the one that’s caught in the middle between the two sliding panes , where dust collects because it’s so hard to reach and it never sees the light of day. It’s not an empty shelf though, oh no. At the very back grouped together in sadness are all the teddy bears I’ve ever been given that have been sent there by me to die in loneliness. At least they get kept around, not like the chocolates and flowers which have their own special type of flower pot they get sent to.
I like thoughtful gifts. While it would be hard for you to top last year’s top gift, a first edition copy of Anne Frank’s Diary , you can take the less intimidating way into my heart by giving me and Wael a gift card.
Verbal well-wishers? You’re welcome to compete with the other 999 guys who have sms’d me already, and it’s only 8am. I smell a mass deletion for those who don’t put their money where their mouth is. 😛
My job, or profession per se , is to give you the absolute most erotic, sensual, mind shattering two to four hours of your life. To awaken senses within that have not been fully alive since you were a teenager and to induce an uncontrollable sensation of craving which forces you to submit to me and willingly offer me your heart and soul.
The hardest part of what I do is not related to the time we are in session at all, but rather it is the time measured in days, weeks and months after the session trying to gently curb each gentleman’s passion and devotion to me. Here we are a day removed from Valentine’s Day and I’ve just read my fourth email which seriously proposes marriage since this year began. That comes hard on the heels of the twelve marriage proposals I had last year and yet … here I am single, alone and for the most part lonely. Yet it’s of my own doing.
It’s not that I don’t want to get married. I most desperately do. Underneath all these layers which surround me like walls is the core of me, which is just a girl who wants to be loved and in turn wants to love someone back with all my heart.
My greatest fault I suppose is that I’m choosy, maybe too much so, and while the intense feelings I make men feel for me are great ; to truly consider a man to marry goes very far beyond what is shared in any number of sessions.
I’ll elaborate in a moment , let me first share the email I just read which starts as an account of what we did together but then becomes much more that :
My Mistress,
Today busy boy , I write soon .
You were unbelievable !!!!!!!! Never have i enjoyed as much as i did with you , You are way better , ( dont tell Jaa)!!!!!
You are incredible
i am missing you so much .
When a guy cums as you know he just wants to go and have a beer , with you i did not want to go ,
I fallen madly in love , you are what i have been dreaming for all my life and i want so much to marry you , I am going to work on that !!!!
I will abide by any conditions , i will be a good faithful loving obedient husband .
My heart is hurting away from you my Mistress ,
your best and most favorite slave
I deeply thank you for allowing me to see you.
It was a long day for a short session but very well worth it.
I wanted after i discovered you to come and see you as soon as i could to be able to meet you and establish myself as one of your slaves.
i was nervous as you know , visibly shaking at times.
i wanted to please you , i wanted you to find me accepatble as one of your slaves.
Yes i love femdom , always have , but to be under the control of the most beautiful woman in this world, be in her presence , be close to her was an incredible experience for me .
Kneeling before you naked and vulnerable and totally in your power was incredible for me.
I loved everything you did to me ,
Except the whip of course but i know i must be punished for wrong doings and is all part and very necessary to be punished to learn not to do anyhting wrong .
I was grateful you kept the punishment level down and i know from that movie you sent me and the actual punishment i received never to make you angry !!!
i am grateful for your whipping Mistress , and i thank you for my punishment Mistress , i promise i will always endevour to be good boy to keep my punishment levels down.
I respect you as my superior , i respect you as my Mistress and i am so very desperate to be owned and totally controlled by you .
I loved so much looking into your eyes , you are intoxicating, As you slap my face , spit in me ( delicious !) pull my hair to where you want my head and listen to your incredible voice and allow me to suck your toes and lick your feet and have your feet in my mouth, for me unbelievable pleasure.
To be collared and leashed by you and crawl behind you is such a lovely feeling as at that moment i am belong to you , i am controlled by you.
Even the painful spikey thing you put on and locked , I can only imagine how it would be to be chastied and locked by you in a marriage .
The tease and denial was unbelievable , Jaa was a tease and denial specialist , and very good at it , but yours was so unbelievable , the skill in your tiny hands , but you are so very different as you talk sexy , you make it more difficult to hold off from cumming, as you tal about , things , lile , ‘you want to fuck me ” etc and say aloud “i will be your best slave , i will be your slave forever” I know that you have many things you could say to make it impossible to hold off,
the way you said , ” you are not allowed to cum , you have to have my permission to cum , you will eat your cum if i let you cum.
It is so very very difficult to control not to cum , and when i look at you , most sepecially when I saw your fantastic ass near my face , so difficult Mistress , It was the best tease and ddnial i have ever ever experienced and i deeply thank you.
I loved lying on the floor totally under your power as you put your feet in my mouth, and toyed with my cock and balls with your feet , i love my face to be under your feet , not only do i love your feet but i love the sense of being under your power.
I loved the way you were sticking your finger up your ass and talking about feeling your shit for me to taste , and asking me if i want to eat your shit and so on , I loved sucking your finger clean , and i could taste your shit , The power , i am desperate for any taste of you and yes I will eat your shit , i want to be able to prove to you that i will do anyhting for you , I want to be able to swallow , and as i get used to it to be used by you as your toilet , desperate for anyhting from your body.
And to taste your finger that had been inside your pussy was soon nice , I can only imagine what it would be like to be allowed to lick your pussy .
You pee was so delicious and i loved licking it from your leg and the floor , that is a real honour and i hope so much one day if Mistress would lock my mouth onto her pussy and let me drink the whole lot .
I beg and beg and beg for face sitting , i apologise for asking , and i live in the hope for your said ” maybe next time ”
To be under you ass would be the best thing in the world .
it is an incredible ass , you are an incredible woman,
and when you put your legs on my face and gave me permission to cum , was the most unbelievable sensation.
I want so very much to be close to you , I want so very much to be your slave
i dream of being your slave BF and slave husband and i beg you to marry me .
i well know you get asked that twice a day but i did feel we have a connection , i do feel that we can have fun in a normal life , and that femdom is not 24 hrs a day , but that i am always under your control , always obedient polite and respectful.
I would have thought that you must get sick of seeing clients every day and will one day want a normal life but be with someone who when you snap your fingers will immedietly obey.
I will.
Mistress , i am totally obsessed with you.
I say again , i love you and will do anyhting to be with you.
i thank you for allowing me to be your slave , and I WILL become your best and favourite slave .
If you did ever think i might have a chance with you , i would never ever ask you to do anyhting you did not want , i am happy for a femled life and totally understand that you will see who you want , and that i would be cuckolded . I simply want to be with you , under your power , owned and controlled but most of all to eventually be loved by you
With utter worship
your slave R…..
That goes far beyond flattery, what you are reading there is a man who has taken the time to open up his soul to me … that is a man completely exposed and revealed and I thank him for such an amazing letter.
I have countless letters just like that one. Each as dear to me as the last.
It’s astonishing that I can touch so many hearts be they 23, 63 or any age in between it makes no difference. Just as this lovely gentleman who was too kind to write such an amazing letter professed his love for me, many others have done the same and I remain single not because of age issues but because I understand the complexity of love and I respect the time it takes to fully gauge an individual’s personality to determine whether that person is worthy of a lifetime commitment.
I had true love in my hand at one point in my life, did I ever tell you that? I let it go.
My first boyfriend was a Thai schoolmate back in grade school and over the course of eight wonderful years we grew up and shared each others lives so simply and yet completely that I feel I was truly lucky to have walked through such difficult years with such a strong leeward breeze of love to carry me. It’s just that when I came back from studying oversees I had changed so much while he had remained stagnant that I simply knew it was no longer possible for him to grant me what my new wishes desired having just had my eyes opened to the world.
So it’s not only time that is needed to choose the right person, it also has to be the right time. I will never forget the day he dropped to his knees begging me not to leave him and through his tears he could only ask me time and time again to give him a reason why and I stood there speechless unable to summarize how living on a different continent changed who I was. I thank him though. Not a day goes by where I don’t thank him for showing me what devotion a man is capable of and it’s because of him that I hold any future suitors to the same high levels that I demanded and received from him.
Next month I’ll be taking a week off to attend the weddings of the last two friends I knew from back home who still remain unmarried. Come March 21st I’ll be the last remaining girl from the village where I was raised to be unwed. I’ve met all of their husbands, both present and former and I wouldn’t have chosen any of them. I’ve always believed that in a relationship, I have to be the one to bring out what I am looking for in a partner. To do that though, there has to be a certain depth of character in the person I’m interested in and to be blunt, it just isn’t found in men from where I’m from.
Most of my relationships barely make it past the one year milestone.
It’s not from lack of trying that’s for sure.
I had a teacher when studying abroad – Vladamir – who began his first class with us by holding up a rope in the front of the tiny lecture hall where he was standing with his scruffy woolen vest, peering up at us through his glasses and stroking his Mandy Patinkin-esque beard. He simply said that the class we were all about to take was like a rope, one could use it to climb up or one could use it to hang themselves, the choice was ours.
As it relates to me and my relationships, the rope is a metaphor for time, and given enough of it, men simply hang themselves in front of me one after the other.
So coming back to this whole thing of how an intense session begets relationship requests, just know that yes I very much want to get married. The fact that I’ve had eight solid proposals since I took on the job of being head mistress – and I remain un-married should give you an idea how high the wall in front of you is that you intend to climb.
It’s better you take a deep breath and just appreciate the session for what it was … a session far more intense than you were prepared to experience … and so the best move for you may be to simply walk away from the wall and be content.
Careful as you do though , there are bodies crashing to the ground all around you.
kh xx
[formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts]
“Rat – A – Tat – Tat , Rat – A – Tat – Tat” it begins again. Like clockwork at 7:30am, just when I’ve laid down to sleep as my vampire nocturnal alarm clock says I should do , the neighbor’s drilling into my bedroom wall and by extension into my brain starts once more. It’s been like this every morning for a solid two weeks, a two week trek into insanity without sleep. Which is bad enough but seeing as it’s come close on the heels of my battle with the flu in mid-January I had started to feel that I had gone the better part of a month without any rest whatsoever.
I have but one solitary pillow so I take the thin blanket and tie it around my head so I look like Ali Baba from the 40 thieves in an attempt to muffle out the noise but alas, it muffles out the sound the way a bottle of Jack would remedy a hangover.
“Rat – A – Tat – Tat” again. Fuck, how much renovation can this fucker do on one wall over the course of two weeks? Is turning his wall into Swiss cheese his idea of new decor? And if so, how long does it take really to drill a few hundred holes, surely not a fortnight?
I yawn with my mouth so gaping wide a bear would mistake it for a cave to hibernate in. My two hands wipe away the tears of frustration in my eyes, pulling them down so that my cheeks are pulled down towards the lower half of my chin and then my fingers crawl through my hair pulling slightly to alleviate my pounding headache somewhat. It works, the way a peanut satisfies a satiating hunger.
Rat – A – Tat – Tat , Rat – A – Tat – Tat .
Now I don’t believe in god, heaven, hell or any of the nonsense humans make up to mask their fear of not existing after death, but I do subscribe to the theory that the concept of infinity means whatever action each of of does at any instant of time has already been done an infinite number of times. As I lay there in my bed thinking about the concept of infinity I secretly prayed that this life be the one plane of time that me and the neighbor’s life will cross paths … so that I may pull his scrotum sack up over his face and pin it there with needles. More or less.
It wasn’t even 11am that I gave up once again trying to get a moment of sleep and with half open eyes I did my best to coherently answer the 40 or so emails that were waiting for me. Forty is a misnomer for every 4 replies I send I inevitably get one back, so 40 becomes 50 which becomes 60 and so on until that number also approaches infinity, or at least that’s how it seems … especially when dead tired.
I get these “you’ve been distant” emails from everybody this month and January as well, along with “are you ok???? You haven’t written for your blog in a month” type emails. I apologize. You know that nauseating feeling you get in your stomach when you’re at wit’s end from working too hard or having suffered through a never ending sickness? That’s how I’ve felt every day since about January 15th.
Rat – A – Tat – Tat , gosh the wall’s about to collapse it seems as the noise hits its crescendo mid afternoon. Then it suddenly stops right at 3pm, an hour before my first session.
Mercy. Thank you.
“The quality of mercy is not strained, it dropeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. ” Ya, Shakespeare never lived beside this dude I can guarantee you that. Mercy from this guy doesn’t drop like rain it hits you over the head with a sledgehammer saying “enjoy the silence, I’ll be back.”
I rattle off 4 straight hours of Tease & Denial and I’m ultra cruel with both dudes as I let them both leave in succession without an orgasm, the second guy literally back shuffles out my condo door begging me while clutching at his dick and balls with both hands, his pants sprouting a horizontal metal flag pole from the crotch area. Then after my most hated part of what I do … the cleaning of the toys , sheets, clothes and the rest of the condo I realize that it’s 9pm and once again I haven’t eaten a single thing. My refrigerator is a lost cause in such emergencies as it has more perfume inside of it than food.
What’s needed is a trip across the street to 7 Eleven to get some desperation food so I swipe my keys off the kitchen counter and I decide to forego changing back into my street clothes choosing instead to stay dressed in my skimpy and ultra sexy evening dress that I had worn for the last session. I exit my condo and close the door behind me and upon hearing a double slam I checked the door handle to make sure it was locked.
When I turned towards the elevator my blood froze. Walking step in step beside me was Mr. Drill Happy himself. Now if you know me and you know my personality … well you know that there wasn’t going to be any uncomfortable elevator silence for the trip to the ground floor. By the time the doors opened to the lobby there was a genuine hate on between us and we were engaged in full argument which made the security guard manning the front desk stare and track us with his eyes as we bantered back and forth through the lobby.
Apparently that elevator also serves as Dr.Who’s telephone booth because I realized when I opened the lobby door leading outside that I was suddenly in the North West Territories of Upper Canada. Or so it seemed as I had been oblivious to the fact it was about 15C outside with wind. What I was instantly aware of however was that under my skimpy tight half see through dress my nipples had grown to the size of cookies .. the kind with real pointy rock hard chocolate chips … and Mr Drill guy was gawking at my chest suddenly. That may have been the first time in my life I caught a guy staring at my boobs and not my ass. Whereas it’s quite uncontested that I have the hottest ass in Bangkok , there are some 12 year olds who would place higher than me in a boob size competition.
“I don’t have anything to wrap you in, sorry” he said while making an empty gesture of taking off an invisible blazer or jacket.
“Well you could always put your arm around me if you want to keep me warm, I”m only going to 7 across the street.”
He seemed downright shocked at the offer and hesitantly put his arm over my shoulder to which I leaned right in to his warm chest and held him tightly with my right arm around his waist. It was downright funny seeing him walk past the saluting security guard by the sidewalk with a boner that seemed to be saluting back.
By the time we got inside 7 Eleven he was laughing at how cold I was to which I slapped his left shoulder and told him how much he sucked as a blanket. I got my eggs, rice, and soi sauce and he stood in line beside me with laundry detergent of all things.
“Do you want to come over for dinner?” I asked him suddenly right out of the blue.
He didn’t say yes, he just nodded eagerly the way a five year old does having just been offered free ice cream.
“Then we’re going to need a bottle of wine”
“Two” he said quickly.
“Two” I confirmed.
I know you’re thinking something like the shot glass scene from Indiana Jones was going to go down later that evening … and you’d be absolutely correct haha.
We sat on the living room couch with the balcony doors fully open so as to allow the cold breeze to playfully flap the lace of my dress happily around my boobs. By the time we reached the bottom of the second bottle he was trying to gauge whether or not I was drunk enough to make his move. Though our conversation had been quite interesting all evening long with topics that had covered Noriega, New Zealand and Nietzsche among others, his brain was more focused on what was inside my dress rather than inside my mind.
He leaned over to get inside my personal space and when he did my foot came up to rest upon his mouth.
“Before I ask you to leave, which I’m going to do momentarily, I need you to promise me something in return for letting you touch my feet with your mouth as you’re doing now.”
I think secretly, all men desire to kiss a woman’s feet. There must be something about having a woman’s foot pressed up against your mouth that makes you remember how great the days were when you crawled around with a baby sucker in your teeth.
“Promise you what?” he said speaking directly through my toes without any attempt to remove them whatsoever. Guys when confused, will take any action as a sign of foreplay. Hell I could probably have played hide and seek with my baby toe inside his nostril and he would have let me do as I please.
“No more drilling before the afternoon.”
“Ahh” he scowled, “ok yes , and I get …” he let his voice trail off wanting me to pick up on the hint of the open ended sentence.
“You get to leave” I smiled and spoke at the same time standing up in the process.
He both backpedaled and walked forward to my condo door, twisting and turning about 4 times between the sofa and the foyer. When we got there and he had slipped on his loafers he turned for one last desperate plea to stay.
“We don’t have to end the evening like this do we?”
I let the back of my right hand drop down and brush lightly against his bulging cock inside his pants as I stepped aside and opened the door with my left.
“You’ve done enough drilling for one day don’t you think? and I leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek and thank him for a wonderful evening making sure to dwell on the fact that his personality had charmed me to no end.
“The pleasure was all mine, all mine, really, thank you, thank you for a wonderful evening, you are the most amazing Thai lady I’ve ever met and to think you live right next door. My goodness.”
I closed the door behind him, waited half a second to enjoy my smile, and then on my tip toes I danced into my bedroom and leaped into my bed wrapping myself in my blanket all in one motion. I glanced at my watch, 4am, wow – totally worth the 6 hours of seduction. A moment later I was fast asleep, dreaming happily knowing that come dawn ; hell would freeze over before he picked up that drill in the morning again.
k xx
[formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts]
