While my grip on the nuances of Female Domination continues to anoint me with God like powers over men , I’ve been simultaneously humbled by something so ridiculously simple : pollution. So though at times I feel in session like a Level 150 Succubus Queen reigning over men with her Staff of Mesmerization , my +20 to Charisma is nonetheless severely offset by my crippling -12 to Vitality.
In layman’s terms ; as the pollution index in Bangkok pushes towards a cancer inducing 200 on the daily – my severely sensitive skin allergy to dust has led me to some pretty creative decisions lately to escape the smog’s viral claws from sinking into my skin.
Since we’re motivated into action by either inspiration or desperation … my limits of desperation were hit earlier this month when I sought refuge in my mom’s home some 200 km outside of the city with nothing to do.
It was there, sitting on the floor that an email suddenly appeared in my inbox from a very friendly face that I’ve had tied up in my living room many a time in the past.
“Dear Mistress” he wrote, “what would it take to get you here to Slovakia so that I could feel your tantalising tease once again?”
I’ve had only two occasions in my life where I concluded that a two word answer was the only appropriate reply.
The first was in reaction to a question – the only question actually – on my Sociology mid-term exam in my fourth and final year of University here. As I turned the exam paper over – all 14 pages of it – I found every single page to be empty except the first where at the top my professor chose only to ask 1. Why?
My reply , answered in 2 seconds before I upped and walked out of the lecture hall : A: Why not?
If you’ve ever wondered why I’ve equated my Thai University degree to second hand toilet paper , now you know why. (I got a C+ on that exam)
Anyways, my second ever two word answer – in response to the question posed in that email – was : Just ask.
And so ask he did.
10,000 baht / day ; flight included , meals … accommodation taken care of on his end … all agreed to in a matter of minutes.
That afternoon I was on a bus back to smog infested Bangkok and a few hours after that I was in the air – somewhat unbelievably – destined for Bratislava.
I kind of felt like Keanu Reeve’s character in Bram Stoker’s Dracula when he was summoned to visit the count at his castle in Transylvania … for some reason I equated Transylvania and Bratislava to be pretty much one in the same in my mind.
Crazy thought huh?
I mean, the guy I went to see doesn’t look like Dracula at all … except for his receding blonde hairline which puffs up on the sides much like Dracula’s does in the movie, albeit not quite as much as Princess Leia’s cinnamon buns once did.
I’ve been to 21 countries in the world , you’d think some of the mystery of travelling to new places might have died off somewhat but in truth every trip makes me think exactly as I did when I was a kid dreaming about travelling out my window to Never Never Land.
Except, in those dreams I was floating out the window in my pyjamas carrying nothing in my hands while on this flight my carry on bag discretely stored above me was loaded with oils, butt plugs, electrical stimulation rods , a strap on harness and a big black 14 inch king kong dildo.
I would have ruled Never Never Land , suck on that Peter.
The very first thing I noticed upon leaving the airport in Slovakia was how deeply blue the sky was. I’d grown accustomed to the brown filthy haze – so much so that it made me smack my head to once again heed my long time resolution to ‘never settle for something you know you should never get accustomed to.’
Thus, given how wonderfully smooth this European Mistress Trip went, the amount of time I will be spending in Europe (so long as there are sessions available) will be ever increasing.
Such an adventure comes with caveats though , ones that exist for you not for me, and thus the purpose of my story here is to warn you in advance if indeed you’re one of the people entertaining the idea of — well — entertaining me in your own backyard.
As you know, I’m not like any other mistress.
Those who have seen me can testify to how mind chillingly romantic our sessions get – they’re quite simply in the words of you guys – one of the most erotic experiences ever felt.
And that’s within a two hour time frame.
Erotic as in … I’m whispering in your ear how hot your moans are making me as I stroke your cock in such a torturous slow manner that every inch my hand moves begs a moan out of your whimpering lips.
All the while my barely visible breasts are hovering just under your lips through my lingerie as I’m wrapped around your body laughing at your dick trying to throb its way to an orgasm.
Erotic as in … you absolutely feel like I’m not your mistress but some evil girlfriend who gets ever so wet at your frustrations and loves nothing more than to coerce tears out of your lust.
That kind of thing.
Except, I got bad news for you. Or well , good news, depending on your perspective of things.
“That kind of thing” gets heightened and multiplied about a thousand times when we’re spending time together on your turf … time measured in days not hours.
For I’ve now done three European tours of duty , and each one has led to the guy not just wanting – but willing at a moments notice – to leave his job / wife / girlfriend to come here and be with me.
And that I can’t have.
For one, the purpose in my life is to get as far away from Bangkok – permanently , as possible. You coming here doesn’t at all aid me in that goal now , does it?
Two, gosh I hope this doesn’t sound mean but … I’m really good at what I do.
And what I do … better than any other mistress … is convince you of the idea that we can possibly be an item , a true mistress slave relationship – that thing that you’ve always secretly yearned for – is within an inch grasp of your fingers.
Why do I do that then?
Well, a Tease is not a Tease unless desire is present , and the more desire there is … the more intense the tease is.
My job is simply to create as much desire in you that is humanly possible.
It’s why when you go to places like Analisa Massage , you walk away with the feeling every time like you were on a conveyor belt at a factory. Why is that? Because it’s their job to make you cum , not to create desire. They’re there for their 12 hour day to make their 1,00 baht and go home, ’nuff said.
To create unimaginable desire in a man takes such attention to detail.
That could be the 1000 squats I do every week and then wearing something so translucent that the curves of my ass are all that you can focus on when I first meet you in the lobby. Or perhaps it’s “accidentally” leaving the top button open on my blouse so that when we cuddle on my sofa you can almost see the perkiness of my nipple beneath.
Or that detail can manifest itself in the way I ever so softly whisper in your ear throughout the session driving you crazy as my warm breath in your ear causes goosebumps to run down your leg …
That comment I made to him about ‘ordering somebody’ to do something is true. It’s why those scary mistresses who yell and scream at you rarely can give you anything memorable besides a scar on your ass.
“One must create a desire in them to be properly influenced” , is nothing but an extention of rule #3 in Dale Carnegie’s book 3. Arouse in the other person an eager want.
That “eager want” is multiplicative and directly related to the amount of time spent with me.
Taking a page from Yoda’s book of wisdom , “eager want” leads to “must have” , “must have ” leads to “at all costs” , “at all costs” leads to suffering.
Suffering in the form of not being able to have what you truly realise you need.
I am what most men truly need.
Not saying that to sound conceited ; it’s simply a derivative of the supply and demand rule.
The supply of mistresses in the world, especially the good ones … is inversely proportional to the number of men who crave a somewhat secretive submissive relationship.
That I am single, available, ungodly hot (lol) : is just sauce for the goose.
Is there a chance that you’l be the lucky one to ‘get me’ and have your fantasy of a mistress slave lifestyle realised?
Well possibly. But there’s a chance of winning the lottery every week too isn’t there?
Unless you’re Mistress Wael who somehow manages to win (at least something) more times than she loses. I swear , she’s the only person I’ve ever met who could call playing the lottery a part -time job ><
Anyways I’m hardly a jackpot.
Just a normal girl really, unfortunately born 2 months premature and thus marches through life with stats that a fantasy character would say are not optimal :
-12 Susceptibility to Allergies
-10 to Strength being born almost a Halfling
– 14 when it comes to the ability to build a cute snowman. (just recently found this out)
But that +20 to Charisma does make me quite deadly … in good way , dontcha think? 🙂