Femdom Blog

 

T

he ways and rituals of teasing a subject into madness are difficult to master.

 

Those seeking such require the coaxing of a heretic’s luring voice or a blacksmith’s mighty sword arm if they are to make the crossing.

Without tools of iron , I must rely upon flesh … and indefatigable purpose.

It’s the timing of my fingers that is imperative.   Without the proper penile brushes at precise intervals the process can fail spectacularly.

 

For my first attempts at teasing were crude , and the results disappointing.

I soon found however that the type and condition of the host’s cock was a factor.

The best results came from the proper attention to time.   A month’s absence from touch had been what was needed.

More time.  More aching.  More disappointment.  A man’s mind run amok.

 

These great penises I bring through madness are all broodish , and stupid.

Moreover, they require prodigious amounts of fluid to sustain themselves.

But this is only a trifling concern.  After all , I have two sacks full of it.

 

xx

 

 

 

 

Yes I know I’ve been away for a while.  But it’s time you see.

Ah time, you are indeed my Moby Dick and so – from hell’s heart , I stab at thee.  For hate’s sake, I spit my last breath at thee.

I’ve become somewhat of an Austin Powers – International Mistress of Mystery this year , as I’ve been spending more of my time in Europe than Bangkok ; and I must say the change of venue does suit me just so.

Thus, between the travel to and fro ; the backlog of sessions awaiting me here every time I return home ; and the absolute attention I’ve been giving to email discourse ; I’ve been left with such precious little time to sit and write.

Sadly , the hopes of presenting you with my first book have been pushed back to new year’s day of 2020 , but it shall be published : of that you can be certain.

 

austin powers bdsm femdom tease denial europe mistressSuch certainty has come from my ability to manage time more efficiently lately.  While jaa4u runs as a business like a finely tuned Porche , it’s remained imperative that my sessions are hand soaked with meaning and feeling.

I’ve improved my body to such a point that together with my skills at manipulation , well – there is no measurable depth anymore to the Alice in Wonderland like hole I drag you into ; not just for your sessions but well beyond.

I tend to linger in a man’s thoughts, like the memory of a delicious meal one had many years ago.  And such lingering has led to more than one scathing email from girlfriends and wives who have felt scorned by the infatuation of their man’s minds upon dear ol’ me.

Ah, c’est la vie.

 

Though my next month’s trip to Europe is fully booked,  don’t fret.  I would have you know that I’ll be in Europe again from July 19th until , well perhaps the middle or end of August.  I’ve acquired a taste for European summers , they’re like a fine red Beaujolais – you simply can’t savour enough of the taste.

The rules are simple if you would like to session with me in your own country.

  1.   The fee is 10,000 baht per day.
  2.   You are responsible for the transportation from the European country I’ll be in  (currently Italy, Switzerland and Germany) to your location.
  3.   And  the places you are booking for us to stay are in line with what an elite mistress as myself would expect.
  4.   We must have had multiple sessions already here in Bangkok and we have a fine rapport with one another.

 

As I am a guest in your country I draw the line at public humiliation , I won’t be doing anything among people in public that would cause folk to raise an awkward eyebrow at me.

But you will be my property so to speak, and as such you want to wholeheartedly dip your toe into the waters of seeing what it would be like to indeed have a Mistress as your significant other.

You can expect your heart to be locked up and teased just as much as your dick will be – but you are forbidden to fall in love with me, I’m a single girl through and through.

 

 

I’ve come to understand my lot in life and I’m at peace with being single.

The truth of the matter is that the greatest power a woman can have is to be drop dead gorgeous , unattached , and not just be a flirt as many such girls aspire to be – but rather someone well trained in the absolute art of seduction.

It’s funny isn’t it?  – The little bits of truth we hold on to as we learn them.  My biggest nugget of truth came on the first day of University in Economics 101 – a class I lasted 20 seconds in , but left on my own volition.

This pompous grey bearded professor with the size and stature of a Joe Pesci strutted from the door of the lecture hall to his podium and (in Thai) immediately told us to look to our left and then our right.

“One of them will not be here come December.  My job is to rid the weeds so that the trees may grow.”

To which I stood up in front of 300 people and replied (in English) “well let me make it easier for you asshole” as I zipped up my jean patch backpack (still have it) and walked up the steps towards the exit door top left of the auditorium.

And as I walked up the stairs my ears caught the next thing the troll spoke, and therein was the nugget of wisdom that wouldn’t manifest itself until late last year.  Ignoring my exit he had continued seamlessly with:  “Economics, ultimately, is not only the study of supply and demand, but a pursuit into the understanding of the power that equation holds within.”

Gibberish , right?

Well I thought so at first.

 

 

I should be thankful for that little troll , it was his arrogance that made me drop Business on the first minute of the first day of University in lieu of English Lit.  Probably a peek there too into my mental mindset of a mistress as even back then I wasn’t for one second going to let a man hold that much dominion over me.  After all, I had just finished five years of being the most hated girl in high school by all my teachers and had been forced into choosing business by my guardian at the time.

Gives you an idea of how individualistic I am though.  I figured I’d fail miserably if I attempted to major in a language I could barely speak let alone write at the time – and ya I almost did fail.  I plagiarised myself through nearly if not all of my first two years just to survive, especially once I found out that foreigner teachers here gave less of a fuck than my Thai teachers did.   But hey I was having a blast.  I was in the English speaking part of the University most of the time making friends with freaky foreigners who had decided their best life choice was to come to Thailand to study English which to me is absurd.  It’d be like me moving to New Zealand to learn Thai , but whatever.

I know I’m going a bit off the rails here , but bear with me.  I’m writing this with no cork board of a plan laid out as to the direction I’m taking the plot.  Told ya it’s been a while since I wrote right?

Anyways, thought I’d mention my first moment in my first English Lit class as well ‘cuz it’s one of those moments as well that’s stuck with me until now.

Professor’s name was Vladimir – a Russian giant of a man with a portly stomach and a sweater wearing fanatic (yes in Bangkok) – teaching freaking English Literature.  Welcome to my world as it was in university!!

My first impression from university was that every one of these damn “professors” has a line they throw out every year.  Vlad’s line was :  “I simply give you a rope in this class.  You can use it to climb up as far as you wish … or you can hang yourself with it,  your choice.”

I understood why he wore the sweaters though , that class was downright freezing cold, so cold that I remember every time I left my nipples were so erect they hurt to touch them.  Since we were required as girls to wear the white shirts mandated by the university , I made it a point to never wear a bra in that class and sit in the front row, which may or may not have helped me get an A from Vlad , who knows.

But I digress.

We were talking about economics.

One certainty that I’ve come to realise now that I’m in my 30’s is that if … and it’s a big IF … one can survive the direction the herd of society takes while growing up through one’s 20’s – and stand alone – why one becomes liberated having escaped the lies we were led to believe.

The biggest of which is …. that relationships are meant to last.

 

hate amok time femdomThey aren’t.  The concept of forever & love in the same sentence – is asinine.  100% of you guys are in despair , trying to get through life honouring a commitment to your significant other that you made many moons ago and are regretting it.

And please … hold off on the emails of anger that you want to send to me – I’m talking to those in young love – not yet having reached year 10 of your relationship but willing to declare that your perfect relationship will remain so through eternity.  I have a word for you – bullshit.

Or another word – delusional.

If not outright hating your girlfriend or wife , you’ll at the very least be tolerating her.

What won’t go by the wayside though is your lust for women , your lust for sexual desire, and your lust for flirting with that which realistically you can’t have … and that’s where I come in.

I’m what you want.  For certain, I’ve “augmented” my body so that I am indeed  that holy grail of woman you’ve always wished you could have and to hold – til death – or a limp dick – do you part.

The supply of girls who look like me – is rare.

The demand of guys like you – looking for a girl like me – is plentiful.

What I thrive on though is that the act of going out to buy a girl , hot like me for an hour in bed becomes a ten minute whirl under the sheets that leaves you alone and wondering “why the fuck did I just empty my wallet of $500 for a 10 minute fuck.”

 

I gotta tell you that the hardest transformation that I’ve gone through as a Mistress is to be “ok” in my mind with making guys believe that I love them.  Making guys believe that we have certain chemistry.  Making guys want to leave their wives and girlfriends for me.

It’s the remnants of the societal pressure of what a relationship should be like – still stuck in my mind – that I had to rid myself of.

Once free , my mind was able to focus on one thing only : what is it that guys truly desire?   And give it to them.

Quite simply, guys want a girl that they can act out their wildest fantasies with and feel not only love but a connection in return.  They’d settle for any girl that could give them that feeling of being alive , but when they find that in a girl as sizzling hot as I am … well they’ve found nirvana.

That fewer than .00001 % of the female population can supply such a feeling , is my final realisation of Professor Pesci’s words:  the understanding of the power “supply and demand” holds within

 

 

Am I truly ok with playing with guys minds.  Meh, sometimes.  Sometimes not.

I’ve been fascinated with the TV show Survivor lately.  Watching people form relationships on the island for the sole purpose of betraying the same person they’re befriending … and coming to grips with how doing so goes against every fibre of who they think they are morally.

Well, it’s a treat to watch people struggle for the first time with what I have to struggle with daily.

“I’ve told my wife about us”  is the scariest email I get.  Especially since  a) there is no us   and   b) i get such a letter 10 times per year at minimum.   Sometimes much more often than that.

Yes I’ve held your dick while you’ve begged me for over a hundred hours to finally let you cum.

Yes we’ve watched Netflix with your head on my lap looking up at my breasts while I stroke your hair and feed you popcorn.

Yes we’ve cuddled each other while floating down the water in Venice as the sun sets … and yes I heard you say many times that this is how life should be.

And Yes I’ve let you fall in love with me as your Mistress knowing that I can read your mind in such a way that no woman has ever done.

 

But that’s my job you see.

For you will find no other woman as good at seduction as I am – in all probability.

Go back up and read that first poem/story that I wrote at the beginning.

“A man’s mind run amok.”

Amok time … is that what you truly crave?  Are you sure?

If so, then book me for Europe.

 

xx

 

 

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