I wanted to get laid this week. I thought I was going to get laid. The pussy trap , I thought, had been set properly, and it was just a matter of reeling the shark in , ie: get him back to my new condo. But I didn’t get laid, somewhere along the line I fucked up because the shark swam away. Ya you read that right, once the metaphors have been tossed in the toilet it reads as such : “the hot dude didn’t want to fuck me.” So let’s put on our nerd slayer super sleuth dectective’s Fedora hat , turn up the collar on our Private Eye style raincoat , and slither back into the shadows …
“Find a need , and fill it” … is what Mistress Jaa likes to say to me. I think I found a need. But is it only me who thinks the way I do about it? Every golden shower video I study … every toilet slave video I study … and in every anal pegging video – the slave is a perfect slave. It is like the slave made the video for himself to show off how good he can swallow anything or how loose his ass is already. I can tell you for sure 90% of my sessions are not like that. Me? I love the “terrible high pitched screaming” like he says in Jaws … …
Like I said in yesterday’s blog, sometimes I just don’t have anything genuinely sexy to write about because my mind is fixated on some other random thought … and that I’ve been hesitant to write about those kinds of things because there needs to be a ratio of 70% – 30% kept of sexy stories to my random thoughts. So because I’m adhering to my promise of Wael or I posting a story every single day until covid’s travel restrictions are lifted … you’re getting a look at what today’s fixation was instead of reading something hot and sweaty. I was on the bts skytrain coming back to my condo with Mistress Wael at about 6pm this evening and we …
My OnlyFans site is up and running : https://onlyfans.com/mistressjaa . It’s $20 / month. I’m posting multiple times daily. Plus live online domination. This story is going to explain the how’s and why’s of what I’m trying to provide you and accomplish. That I’m writing again, and posting to onlyfans daily, means I can finally put the cancer scare and the condo move behind me … and start having fun for a change!! Because, fuck, what a year this has been eh? No doubt, all this covid stuff happened because when I returned from Europe back in January I whispered to myself that I wasn’t quite ready to resume sessons yet – that my mind needed just a bit …
My birthday is August 15th. So far I survived 5 months of covid with only 1 femdom session. I survived because my tiny perfume business sells 2-3 bottles a day. Enough for food , enough to pay for my condo, and enough to keep my 2 daughters in school. I wonder if for my birthday my followers can help me grow my perfume business to be a little bit bigger. My goal is to grow my inventory to 30 different fragrances with testers for each bottle. 15 perfumes and 15 cologne. For 3 months I tried to sell at very small night markets , but I know I need to sell at a better place. To do that I need …
“The ways and rituals of testicular sacrifice are difficult to master. The timing of the stomps is imperative. Without the proper cadence at precise intervals, the process can fail spectaularly.” I actually had a session today. First time in forever. He was asking for testicle torture. Instead I gave him testicular sacrifice. I borrowed the idea from the movie JigSaw I watched last night on Netflix. After the movie I thought “I don’t want to just kick and hurt his balls” … instead … “I want to play a game.” Because I didn’t do a session in so long I wanted to do something amazing and fun. Now I know your head mistress uses hot massage balm for some of …
“Holy fuck, you look absolutely amazing.” “Why wouldn’t I?” “Well , the cancer , the operation , and everything … you know … I just , I mean I thought” his words eventually dropping off to a stuttering stammer void of strength. My first session in , fuck what has it been, half a year almost? And here we were, at the foyer of my condo , standing in silence as he kept checking me out from head to toe and back again. “Well are you going to come in or not?” I politely asked him while stepping to the side and leaned against the edge of my door so that my rose colored dress rode up the bottom curve …
Love and Hope. The two birds that sleep together when I exercise at midnight every night … that is the 2 name I gave them. In the morning I feed them bread when they wake up. At 9pm when I go exercise around my condo they watch me and sometimes sing for me. And when I finish at midnight they sleep. Together. And touch wings like in love. I believe in love. I believe in hope. And I believe in maybe. Her story ‘maybe’ is so powerful. ‘The covid pandemic has lasted 4 months and will last 2 more months minimum before tourists can come back to Bangkok. That is awful, yes? Maybe. Well what if I start …
Who am I? That’s not a rhetorical question for you, its a self-reflective inquisition of myself. If I look at the bright side of things – and god knows that’s been hard to do this month – I could step back and say that I’m just maturing from the mid 20’s girl I was when I started writing for this site to the “not quite” mid 30’s woman I am now , and with time has come a decade of change that makes me wince at who I was , right up to about a year ago. Now some might say it took this cancer in my chest to bring about change but in truth its been this whole last …
I’m trying to figure out why it’s been so damn hard to write this story , after all, I’ve been at it all day , and this is the umpteenth retake. So around 5pm , out of total frustration, I went outside on the balcony and had a good conversation with my cactus plant as I usually do when things are feeling a bit overwehelming. Sitting there from late afternoon to mid evening with my plant coddled between my knees , watching the day turn to night , I kind of got some clarity on just why it’s always been hard to write about something other than the crazy fun sessions that I do every month. There’s always been this …
