What pray tell is a dick rating service you may ask?
In my Dick Rating Service … I’m going to rate your dick on a scale of 1-10 in 5 different categories, with a maximum possible score of 51. The Dick Rating Service winner will be announced not this Sunday but the next one … over on my onlyfans blog via a mention in next Sunday’s blog post here.
Men are impressed by their sword , so much so that I think most would consider it a work of art , worthy of a space in the Louvre museum.
If you’re so impressed by your own manhood, how about submitting it for a competition? Is your dick truly the cock of the walk baby?
Dick Rating Service | Criteria
a) Chastity. Straight off the bat, if you can produce a photo of your dick locked in a chastity – with a note on top saying Mistress Jaa’s Pet – you instantly get a full mark, so you’re starting off at 1/50 , and its only up from there right?
b) Length and Angle of Attack at full mast. Unheld by your hand – I want to be impressed not only by its length but equally by how vertical your dick can get – so if you can get your cock head to touch your belly button or extend beyond it (wow) … full marks baby.
c) Thickness. I’m partial to guys who “never hit bottom but bang the fuck out of the walls on its way in and out.” So if you’ve got girth – you’ve got a shot to win.
d) Cumshot volume. I want a photo of your mess on a dark coloured floor so I can determine volume.
e) Prettiness. If your dick looks like it belongs in the store front window of a Dildos-R-Us Sex Toy shop , then damn I want to see your model dick in a photo.
f) Pubic hair. I’m not telling you my criteria on this, you’ll just have to guess. I suggest you don’t use the same photo as your hard on photo , your dick might block your pubes if you’re able to get it vertical. Two separate photos in that case would suffice.
Each category will be graded on a scale of 1-10.
With a bonus point if you can produce the chastity and note as mentioned in a) above.
Submit 1 or 2 photos via text message on our onlyfans chat dialogue.
The winner’s cock will be the one I look at on my phone while pushing my silver bullet vibrator into my clit. I’ll also do an online domination session with the winner where you’ll be instructed how to pump that beautiful dick of yours 🙂
Punishment
If in my dick rating service | competition … your cock scores less than 20 your punishment will be as follows:
a) If you are the owner of a chastity device, you’ll be locked up for a period of no less than 14 days and will have to apologize in writing and beg for your ugly duckling to be set free.
b) Those without chastity will upon their next session be required to withstand 1 love tap by way of kicks to your balls … for EVERY point you finish away from 50. ie: If you score a lowly 10, you’re getting 50-10 = 40 love tap kicks that you’ll need to count out loud to.
jaa4u Readers
You’re welcome to participate in the dick rating service | competition if you’re not over on my onlyfans blog … but you should be because I’m posting all day, 24/7 , photos , videos and stories … and I’m online to chat with you around midnight Bangkok time.
But say you can’t , you’re married and she checks your phone bill (#whippedhusband (whip-whoosh-03)) … email me the required photo but note that your final score will have 10 full marks deducted … which could put you into the Punishment category above!
Dem’s da rules boys. May the best dick win !!
xx
Book A Session
Looking to book a session? You can either email us :
Or fill out the form below. Don’t forget to check out my Loyalfans femdom blog , or Mistress Wael’s Loyalfans blog its a great way to get to know more about us through our photos , videos and daily stories.
This story is outdated. I have now moved to loyalfans. They cunts at OF kicked me off, stole $1000 of my money and all with no warning. They didn’t like the fact I was writing sexy femdom stories on my blog page.
Loyalfans allows all my videos and photos without question. It’s a better interface. Should have started with them in the first place.
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 more vacation time away from my Mistress personality.
Because they both live together upsairs like a Dr.Jekyl and Mr.Hyde type of thing , and one can consume the other if I let my dominant Mistress tendancies to take over.
So there I was kneeling beside my little green cactus plant in January, praying to the Cult of the Golden Orb (see video below) that if “I could just have a bit more time off , geez swell, that’d be great.”
Since I was once “the lemon” (see video above), my prayers get heard more often than not and so … due to my request I can confirm it was me and my request which brought covid to the world … only I thought it was going to be for a few weeks or so.
That’s all I asked for , 2 more weeks off at most.
Then I started rationalizing the length of the shutdown. I began convincing myself that our normal lives would be back in May or June.
Which became July or August.
In fact I had just finished emailing people earlier this month that we’d be doing sessions again in October or November.
I felt like Bugs Bunny drawing lines in the sand … egging on covid to “oh ya? cross thisline.”
It was a combination of this Bugs Bunny memory and Faucci saying “xmas 2022 the world should be in a better place to manage the pandemic.”
2022? ! ? ! ?
See all those lines Bugs drew in the sand? If each line represents a month in time I thought … thats about how long Ill be sitting here bleeding money waiting for this to be over.
So March begat April, and April begat May, May begat June and all I did was sit in my condo , alone, wondering if the next month would be better.
Then the pain in my chest started immediately worsening.
At first I chalked it up to nervous anxiety from being alone in my condo for days on end only making human contact with the LineMan food delivery boy. I had this feeling in my chest that inspired constant doom, that 6th sense saying something bad’s about to happen , and at first I thought it was a mental manifestation brought on by my stress.
I still can’t write about June and July , suffice to say that it was just so awful that the best way to deal with it is to focus on the love I got from those of you kind enough to make it so that I’m cancer-free and ensure that I’ll be around for at least a while longer. I can tell you that there’s absolutely nothing more humbling than receiving love when it’s least expected. You guys know from all my stories just how much I’ve felt jaded by love, being scorned time and time again has shaped me into the Dominatrix that I am today. I guess I figured if I’m not worthy of a man’s love then fine I’ll just flip the tables and make a living out of using his lust against him.
So in fact, I have like the video below, a notch on my cane (1,000 in total) for every man I’ve gotten to B.F.O (beg for orgasm) which is my way of of showing each and every man just how agonizingly good a relationship could be with their Mistress , before making their legs quiver and showing them the door. Who knew that some of these same guys that I’d teased mercilessly … would in turn be the very same people who’d save my life.
Andy ______ Sat, Aug 1, 4:32 PM to me Dear Mistress,
I’m writing to thank you again for Thursday night’s session. It took years – years – before I mustered up the courage to visit a domina, and your combination of dominance, compassion, intelligence, warmth, and intimacy went beyond anything I’d expected. So from the submissive bottom of my heart, thank you for taking the time.
When I walked out on Thursday night, everything felt like it had been a strange, beautiful, erotic dream. Like did that really happen? OK, the lingering pain in my left nipple told me it did, but fantasy had become reality, and that can sometimes be difficult to conceive of. When I waited for you in the lobby of your condo, nervous as hell, nothing could have prepared me for the sight of you. You looked even more elegant than I could have imagined. Your smile was angelic, but your attitude was pure dominance.
And after that, every experience – the softness of your breast wrapped in leather, the sweetness with which you spit water into my mouth, the divine smell of your panties draped across my face – was transcendent, absolutely mind-blowing.
So consider this a letter of my appreciation.
Worshipfully,
Andy
Then August hit and with it my first session in what felt like half a year.
I was so into that session! That was a guy, normal looking just like you, who walked into the condo of a girl so starved for conversation and a good time that I damn near raped the guy. What I did to that guys’ mind surely isn’t legal in most countries around the world – And Arkansas.
Sexiness is a feeling, it comes from within. One of the curious things about me is I have an ability to go from as “plain Jane” as a woman can get when I’m feeling grungy , to damn near spectacular when I’m dressed up with make-up and atttitude.
Poor Andrew got his world flipped upside down that night. I reckon he won’t ever have another girl give him an orgasm like the one I gave him that evening.
I slept that night feeling , mistakenly so, that things were about to return to the old normal. And why not right? I’d survived 4 months of this covid lockdown , recovered from my double breast cancer operation , and just had a great session.
But as more days in August ticked away I began to realize – finally – that this covid thing is going to be around for a long long time. I’m talking well into next Spring or Summer before there’s any hint of travel resuming into my country.
Thus, I had to sit down and make a very very hard decision. It just made no sense to stay in my soi 11 condo , so chosen for your convenience , whilst there was no hope of any significant volume of femdom sessions coming through my door.
But I absolutely loved living in that condo. I loved the spaciousness. I loved stepping outside into the heart of Bangkok’s nightlife and my favourite club Above 11 being right next door.
It took this one particular walk down my street at 10pm on a Friday night – where I was literally the only one on the road. Mistress Wael took a video the next night – what would have been a rocking Saturday night back in February – now an empty walk from my condo to bts Nana.
https://youtu.be/LMLXmk5krc0
In tears, I told my rental agent that I wanted to terminate the lease effective immediately.
I say in tears , but not because I was sad , but rather I felt a sense of defeat. Like for fuck sakes, I had just climbed over a significantly tall mountain of adversity , only to clearly see that there were 100’s if not 1000’s more mountains ahead.
By the way, I have no idea why embedded Tweet’s don’t show up in the blog as they used to appear , with the photo intact. I also don’t know why every blog post is dated by the most recent blog post’s date. There is an update sitting in my website’s notification box saying that the website’s theme – named Sriking – has a major update for download … but read this … (Due to major changes in WordPress (jquery related) updating without confirming all your plugins which use jquery are WP 5.5 compatible MAY BREAK YOUR SITE!)
See?
I don’t have the money to update the licence for my Gravity Forms, so I can’t install the theme update. If one of you is feeling generous and would like to buy this year’s licence for me , I’ll give you a major major discount to my onlyfans subscription website in return. Deal?
Anyways, where was I?
Ah yes, the move. Fuck I hate moving.
For one, I’m a tiny girl ok, and moving 50 boxes by myself down one huge condo building and hauling them across the city only to drag them up to the top of another ridiculously tall condo is no easy feat.
I was going to move back home. I had entertained the thought. But so many Thai’s have done that, just given up and crawled back home in defeat that I just refused to raise covid’s white flag.
Ok so move, but to where?
This is where the onlyfans idea started to enter into the survival math, because at the most I can rely on maybe perhaps one session per month only. Yikes.
And I love writing. I haven’t had a chance to write , do photos or make videos since March. I just figured I’d make a bet that getting back to what I love to do – producing content – will the roots of what will make this transitional period successful.
My onlyfans stream of content is a way to show who I really am, my personality, my face, my body, my femdom methods ; and without fear because the true “me” is behind a small paywall. Yay!
I don’t have it all figured out though. One thing I’ve always wanted to do is to be able to post more freely.
My unwritten rule for my website is to keep 70% of these blog stories femdom related , and no more than 30% of the stuff I write to be about me.
Truth is, 500% of my writing ideas are about me and the way I see the world , but I can’t post it. I thought initially I could do that through onlyfans but I can only hide videos and photos behind their paywall, I can’t hide stories.
I’m looking into Gumroad later today as a way to do that , we’ll see. My Kindle store is still without a book , that’s going to change as well.
So let’s talk about onlyfans and what I’m going to be posting there and here. Photo above is my onlyfans profile banner. It’s me as a Mistress. But I intend to make my onlyfans page oh so much more than me acting as Mistress “Jaa”. It’ll be a whole separate blog.
There was a time, from 6 to 3 years ago , where I posted here every day on the blog. Then things got entirely too busy. 2 sessions per day , every day, for the last three years. With the cancer scare and the big condo move behind me, this is an opportunity to get back to doing that.
Mistress Wael is sitting beside me here, we’re in the ‘games lounge’ of my new condo at the foot of Punnawitti bts station , and we’re having a business meeting of sorts. Gotta admit, we spent the first hour here playing pinball, air hockey, and foosball in this games room, then the 2nd hour was spent naked in the steam room and in the pool. Yup naked. True it raised a lot of eyebrows but hey, this isn’t my neck of the woods and staying here is a temporary thing, so frankly I don’t give a rats ass what anybody thinks, and it feels great to carry such an attitude.
But now we’re getting down to business , and here’s what we’ve agreed to do going forward.
A blog story each and every day , alternating days, with no more than a two day break from writing. Starting today with this one, that’s 30 stories a month until travel resumes around the world.
2. A Kindle book written and published by the 1st of every month, again – until travel resumes around the world, with the first one being published October 1st.
3. Photos , Videos and daily thoughts posted on our onlyfans account every day – and if you guys like it, i’ll do it perpetually.
4. Since I’m a night owl and most of you are in Europe or USA/Canada , I’ll be on onlyfans to reply to Direct Messges – for those who tip – from about midnight.
5. There’s a “Go Live” option on my onlyfans page. I ‘might’ entertain doing this, if the tips to do so are significant enough. Truth be told, online domination is wholly new to me. What I’d prefer is to find a volunteer femdom slave who’d Wael and I would tease and control live on camera. We’ll see.
6. Whereas before femdom sessions were only conducted at my place , I understand some of you who are still in Bangkok might not want to make the BTS trip to Punnawitti station – 2 stops beyond Wael’s place at On Nut. Therefore, until I’ve moved back to my soi 11 abode, I’m now open to hotel visits.
In fact, I’d probably say I’d prefer doing my bdsm sessions at your hotel or condo, simply because my new condo is so small compared to my old one. I mean, it does have a majestic 30 foot window on the 38th floor which presents a spectacular view of the city , and it is designed somewhat like an American loft. But it feels like a thin slice of brick cheese living here.
Yes, there’s these impressive stairs that traverse 30 feet upward to my tiny bedroom – and we could hold the teasing part of our sessions there – but you’d probably have the same feeling I have once you’re on the bed … like you’re on the precipice of falling 10,000 feet to your death as the far side of the bed is pushed tight up against the crystal clear ceiling to floor window on the 38th floor.
Downstairs , there’s a sofa fit for 2, a tiny coffee table, a tv , and a ladder. Yup, a ladder.
I had to climb that fucking thing 500 times this week to store all the stuff that won’t fit in this place.
Because that’s what this condo is bascially, air. They’re selling air. No word of a lie – I could throw a baseball as high up as I could in my room – and there’s no way in hell it’d hit the ceiling. It’d be fucking awesome if I could get a contractor in here and find a way to suspend you guys from the ceiling though. Alas, I’ll probably go with tying you to this ladder here and finish you off on the bed.
The facilities though, wowza. There’s a climbing wall on the roof – one that I intend to poke you slaves in the balls with a bamboo pole as I make you try to climb it.
There’s a running track on the roof as well, so you’ll be sitting there on the grass waiting for me to get all nice and sweaty as I run – just so you can suck and lick my smelly shoes, socks and feet thereafter.
Arita, Wael and I shot hoops yesterday on what has to be the highest basketball court in the city. I’d like to say I was the female iteration of Michael Jordan , but you’ll see in the video I’m far from.
And that’s the point of my OnlyFans page.
Whereas for most of you just reading about the new place and imagining me shooting hoops is and has been fine enough, for those of you who want to actually see Wael and I walk you through the facilities of the new condo , see what I’m talking about regarding the 30feet window in my tiny loft, and see me shoot hoops , you can see all three videos plus the Tease & Denial video I posted earlier over on my onlyfans page.
That’s just today. It’s going to be like that every day. There will be a story here on the blog , and if that’s enough for you, that’s great. For those who want more , you can really get to know me through my onlyfans page, and if you want to delve even deeper into the “getting to know me” experience, you can even go live with me over on onlyfans once we’ve agreed on an appropriate tip amount.
Folks, that’s how I envision being able to stay and live in Bangkok.
Oh sure, I have my small shop at the market where Mistress Wael sells her perfume, (please donate a dollar or two to help her gofundme out ) and it’s there that I’ll be selling all my Gucci , Versace and Victoria Secret line of used clothes for pennies on the dollar. Yay 🙁
If I’m lucky that’ll pay for food. Onlyfans will pay for my rent and expenses. And the 1 session per month will be my spending money. That’s the plan!
And if this onlyfans idea takes off , and I become a writer/video content provider , well then – the sky is the limit isn’t it?
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to see how many men I can get to show up at the steam room to see me naked every night at 8pm , haha 🙂
Book A Session
Looking to book a session? You can either email us :
Or fill out the form below. Don’t forget to check out my Loyalfans femdom blog , or Mistress Wael’s Loyalfans blog its a great way to get to know more about us through our photos , videos and daily stories.
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 two years that has made me , well , in one of your guy’s words “more human” …
“P.S. I’ve also noticed based on your posts how you’ve slowly gone from robot to human the past few months. #silverlining”
Well at least if this cancer gets me I’ll die as a human, that’s gotta be worth something , yes?
What if I told you that I can pretty much pinpoint the exact moment I became more human? It happened in the 2nd last session I had before I went to Europe last November.
The reason I know there was a change in me was because of the empathy I had for this submissive guy who had been coming to see me since last July for regular ballbusting sessions. Let me ask you a question first ok, before we continue because we need a baseline of comparison here. What would be your reaction if you kicked your best buddy in the balls as hard as you could?
He’d drop to the ground like a rock, no doubt.
But then what would be your reaction when you see him writhing there in agony trying to catch his breath , both hands clenching his groin and maybe a bit of drool wheezing out of his mouth at the same time.
Would you laugh at him?
Now say your friend struggles to his feet and asks you to kick him again, harder this time.
At what point do you start to have empathy with his suffering?
I never have empathy. Ever.
In fact, it becomes second nature to laugh at the person , and if you think that’s twisted , think that in those situations I’d then demand the man to crawl over to me , lick my foot , and then order him to thank me for the privilege of doing so.
With this gentleman I’m referring to, we’d even add humiliation to his suffering by making him serve as a naked coffee table for me, Mistress Wael, and Arita … and with sandwiches and scalding hot coffee on his back one of us would kick his balls hard enough to watch the whole human coffee table crash to floor. We’d walk in the spilt coffee and have him lick it from our toes , then chat thereafter ignoring him whilst he polished our living room floor.
That’s just par for the course Mistress mentality , its absolutely nothing for any of us to demand such servitude from a man.
Except, fast forward to November and this person shows up for his last session before I’m to fly to France , only this time he’s perfectly content with letting me watch The Revenent on Netflix while he buries his face between my legs to smell my dank post-workout pussy and all the wonderful fish aroma that comes with it. For you that might be exciting, but for him it’s such a downgrade from the activity he asks for in his sessions. He was so perfectly still for the entire first hour of the movie I had begun to feel I should tease his dick until the film had ended but he refused to let me touch it.
I”m not exactly chopped liver when it comes to looks okay, so when a guy refuses to let me touch his dick that’s like a 5 alarm fire bell warning something’s wrong.
We talked it out for a bit and he revealed that come October he had a gnawing pain in his groin , one that physically caused him pain when he tried to orgasm. “It’s like natural chastity” he said as he laughed at his own joke and then continued “I haven’t cum since late September out of fear for the pain.”
With his phone he began showing me all these pages he had researched on the source of the pain and how to remedy the situation , one of which suggested a manual procedure called Testicular Torsion.
Not wanting to go in for a surgical procedure , and unable to administer this treatment upon himself , he asked me right there while the movie was playing in the background to help him out with this testicular torsion … and you might cringe as I tell you this … but it involves him laying back , and me separating his left testical from his right … grabbing a handful of the skin above his left nutsack … pinching that skin with my left hand … and with my right hand I was to grab his tightended testicle and twist it 360 degrees or more.
I understand if you’re feeling cross-eyed after reading that.
Luckily , assuming that this might hurt the dude more than he’d ever experienced pain before , I had told him to bite into my sofa’s pillow. Because the scream he let out when I began twisting was blood curdling.
And that’s when it happened. A wave of empathy hit me , like a wave, only it didn’t pass through me, it enlodged itself inside my soul … which sounds pretty mellowdramatic , yes, but its true and that’s the best way I can describe it.
I let go and I just said aloud “I’m not doing this.”
Of course he replied with a string of “please Mistress” but I was steadfast in my decision. It was final. I’m just not inflicting that much pain on a guy , no matter what. Furthermore, I’m not a doctor, I could be causing irrepairable damage by twisting his nutsack like that.
Then he started crying , sobbing , and he was literally begging me to do it because he couldn’t have sex, he couldn’t masturbate, he couldn’t get hard and he said and I quote “I don’t feel like a man anymore.”
Fuck, and I caused that.
I flew off to Paris the very next day , and all through that trip that session haunted me. For instance, I would find myself walking up to the tower of Pisa and while admiring its beauty I’d say out loud to myself in a whisper “who the hell are you to screw with a guy’s health like that?”
“What have you become?”
“Where’s your heart?”
So I began some soul searching , trying to find the girl who cared about people’s feelings , their hopes and dreams, and their real wants not just their superficial ones.
Guys who sessioned with me on that late fall early winter European trip would all attest to this feeling of falling in love with their Mistress because I was much more friendly, much more intimate than I had ever been. And by intimate, I don’t mean in the bedroom, I mean hugging my guy when we were walking by the river in Paris, or letting him pick me up and spin me in the air atop the Eiffel Tower , or putting my hand lightly over his at dinner and smiling.
Of course I’d be smiling at him drinking my pee from a champagne glass at a 5 star French restaurant, a Mistress is still a Mistress after all.
But ya, all that trip I was much more loving.
I got home mid January and before I resumed sessions we had one of our little ‘business meetings’ Wael and I did where we discuss where we are with things and the ‘state of femdom’ as it applies to our business currently. Mostly those meetings are about what toys we need, what toys we’d love to have , what we’ve learned and we might air out any concerns we have.
“I want to be friendlier” I said, “I’m going to filter out those sessions where we have to hurt someone going forward.”
Wael’s response was “give them to me” and it makes sense as she’s a few years behind my curve so to speak.
There is definitely a curve we all go through as a Mistress.
It’s a four stage curve as I see it. Starts with “what the fuck am I doing and why is this guy listening to me and obeying me?” Follwed in a year by “hmm, what else can I make this guy do for me?” which leads to where Wael is at right now “I’ll do anything , I have no limits for how to control a guy.” But eventually that circles back to the maturation of the curve and says “In how many ways can I make a male submissive slave fall in love with me” which is a collection of just the simplest minute things which I know drive a man wild. I suppose ultimately, its an unseen confidence.
So we finish that meeting , and I remember that same guy’s email was at the very top of my inbox that evening. It read:
“It’s funny Mistress. If I knew for a fact I would die at 43 (just turned 42), I would be ok with it. I honestly don’t understand people who want to live to be 100. Every decade gets exponentially shittier. I can’t even begin to imagine how terrible I’d feel if I managed to make it to, like, 70. I’m pretty sure that if I die from natural causes, it’s going to be something with my junk down below. My testicular pain is getting worse and I just have weird lower bowel pains pretty much daily. Going septic from a bowel perforation is a really shitty way to die, so I’m pretty sure the first time I wake up with bad abdominal pains and a fever, I’m just going to go ahead and blow my brains out.”
Never heard from him since.
I’ve felt so shitty about that, its been eating at the back of my mind daily.
Which brings me to my cancer.
I feel, in someway, this is karma, this is ‘go around come around’ , or – if in fact he did end things as he threatened to do, then this is “an eye for an eye” in the universe’s justice.
Like , it doesn’t make sense how suddenly this year everything can conspire collectively against me all at one time.
If feels, invitable in a way. Death that is. It’s why I can’t sleep at all lately, not until I’ve endured sleeplessness unto my limit and I stumble to my bed to crash for 16 hours, motionless.
I gotta admit, maybe during sessions as a Mistress I’m strong just like you all think I am , but I’m clearly not handling this very well. I don’t think being alone is helping much either. I’ve twice woken up this month , having slept 16 or more hours having wondered where the day went , only to be replaced by panic that this thing inside me just had another day to grow. And I cry. All day. Again and again. And I know , I just know I have to snap out of it.
There’s so many nice emails in my inbox, I can’t read them, they make me cry even harder.
I actually got some work done today, I went ahead and wrote for the GoFundMe that out of desperation I’m setting up for myself. That just made me angry as I wrote for that this morning. I don’t think it’s fair that in order just to have a shot at making money for my surgery with a GoFundMe that I have to be from a 1st world country. Basically, my life is expendable, I’m Thai therefore since I come from a welfare state , a 3rd world country if there ever was one, my life doesn’t matter. Well, to me it does. Sorry but, I like living. I like life. I love talking to my cactus plant. Ya its nuts, maybe you’re right, but I love doing it. I would appreciate the chance to keep on doing so.
Luckily I had many offers to set up the GoFundMe , but so many of you are in relationships that I couldn’t let you put yourself in hot water at my expense. There’s a young boy, Rob, from England, he’s served as my foot worshiper for many – a – year , and he’s graciously gone ahead and given his ID to allow the fund to be set up.
Meanwhile, don’t get mad at me, I’m not insane … but I’ve basically spent all day every day watching TED Talk after TED Talk about what’s going on at the molecular level of my immune system. And I’ve condensed all the information into 2 things that I understand and one that I don’t as of yet, but I’m learning.
Rightly or wrongly then, I’m starving the cells of glucose by refusing to eat. Because fuck, the gofundme may or may not work, and it looks like it’ll be 2 more months before any type of tourism stars happening here, so it may be a while before I can come up with the money for the 2nd surgery.
Therefore, by my way of thinking, I have to slow the process down so it doesn’t get to stage 1 or 2, and the way to do that by my understanding is starvation. Fine, I’m already into day 3. Not a bite to eat. My intention is to go one week and if I’m feeling ok then on Friday I’ll eat some meat and then I’ll do 10 days, then 14. I intend to eat exactly 3 times this month only.
Secondly, I’m eating 2,000 mg of Vitamin C per day. I’ve had 2 bottles of Vitamin C in my bedroom for 2 years almost , I’m just now eating them every day.
As well, with the little money I have left, I’ve gone and bought 100 lime’s. Lime juice and water I read is pure ascorbic acid Vitamin C and can help … if indeed one is to believe the professionals speaking on those TedTalks.
“The Centre for Covid-a9 Situation Administration also extended the emergency decree for another month to the end of July after it is due to expire on Tuesday.” … and there it is, hot off the presses. Closed ’til August.
0 sessions for yet another 30 days.
Fuck, wonderful, whatever. I’m more resolved from that. Those kids survived 2 weeks stuck in that cave in Chiang Rai last year, no food, didn’t die. I think food is a misnomer. The glucose from food feeds the cancerous cells, while normal cells can switch to keytones when faced with starvation. So no glucose, the cancerous cells starve and the regular cells function in a state of Autophogy which boosts cancer fighting T-Cells. See? I’ve been reading.
So if I die from lack of food, you’ll know there was a method to my madness.
Also, I said last story that it would indeed be nice to have a guy to sit with and hug me to help me get through all of this.
Let’s be clear , that can’t happen. I apologize for going back to the same old quotes from the movies that have affected me so much, but these quotes clarify exactly who I am at times, and make it easier for me to understand what I’m going through. In this case, I’m talking about this quote from 1986’s The Fly:
“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.”
Which to me reads:
Mistress: I’m saying… I’m saying I – I’m a Mistress who dreamt she was a girl and loved it. But now the dream is over… and the domina is awake.
The way I see the world, I can’t have a boyfriend, I can’t have a husband. It’s something I can’t describe to you, instead, you would just have to have stood in my shoes and have done as many sessions as I’ve done over the past 10 years to understand how this job affects one’s personna.
And even then, maybe you wouldn’t understand entirely. Maybe you’d just have to have been a girl, brought up from poverty as I have, and have had so many guys kick dirt in your face that only then you could understand.
Anyways, that’s irrelevant. My point is that it’d be wholly unfair to have a guy come sit with me and give me a hug when I needed.
Because that man, if he was willing to do that, would be a Knight , both valourous and kind. Such men are so rare that such an act would be so honorable that it would be a crime to have that for myself. Give instead to a girl open to love and let a relationship blossom from such kindness.
A lone wolf is indeed that, a lone wolf. Nothing more, nothing less.
Let me walk that path and see where it leads.
But I promise you this, I’ll walk it not as robotic as I have done but rather as human as I can possibly be.
If I came across to you as such in the past, I’m sorry for that, I’m just a girl growing up and trying to find her way.
If anything, this blog since day one is a testament to just how much we all change from decade to decade.
And it’s not our mistakes that ultimately define us, it’s how we grow from them and improve upon ourselves.
Not only that … I feel better and stronger and way more sexy than me in March.
In March I was 65 kg. Today I hit 59kg … yes down 6kg.
Why? How?
I learned a new English word lately … budget. How to budget 500 baht to last one month for food. Actually I learn a lot of new english word lately and it really fuck up my Thai.
2 example.
Yesterday I went to buy mint from across the street the girl sale all the vegetebles on her cart. I had no idea anymore how to say mint in Thai. I kept saying “mint, mint, mint” to her and try to make the English word sound Thai.
Then this morning I took the garbage to the bin and I trip on the hose the security man use to spray the plant. I say to him “oh my gosh I am so sorry” and he look at me like I’m alien.
I should say “khaw tot” but I never do now.
Everything I say I say in English now because I stay alone for 3 months in my room and only watch Netflix and PodCasts and never listen to Thai.
Maybe I will forget Thai soon? Possible?
Budget. 500 baht is $20 in your money. How to make it last 1 month for food?
2 word. Intermittent Fasting.
I eat 1 time 1 day only at 1pm. And right now I try extend to 72 hour IF. Money i can save if I eat 1 time every 3 days is better by 33%.
I cut rice from my diet. I order a lot of fried chicken and Durian. At 1pm I eat until full and done until 1 day pass.
Imagine that. Can eat very spicy Korean style fried chicken and lose weight.
Maybe because 9pm-11pm every night I exercise around the condo. 16kg kettlebell – I carry that when I walk. I lift it. I pull it. If I could I would shit on it too because I hate it so much.
But when I wake up I look in the mirror … and I love my kettlebell … because I have more curve than yesterday 🙂
Ya my life is like that. And I am learning.
Lately I watch everything about Elon Musk. He inspire me.
In fact … my idea for my video store on this site come from the first 5 minutes of the podcast … from how many people buy his flamethrower …
I thought … if he can sell hat and a flamethrower and make 1 million … I can sale my videos and maybe survive a 4 month lockdown.
And it work!
Until P_yP_l close my account. And then my sister account. In 1 day.
So now all my video sales money is in Amazon gift card … but our airport is closed … so cannot buy anything.
That made me study bitcoin and now I have bitcoin wallet and will put 1 option to pay with bitcoin for the videos.
Now I am thinking … Elon sells more than 1 thing in his store. I can do too.
So now this month I design Mistress Wael bdsm hats and tshirt and underwear. Should be ready for July to sale.
Maybe a femdom flamethrower too. Teach me how to make … I will sale.
Thing is. Covid or no Covid. I change a lot this year. I get smart.
I mean … I m not smart like you. But compare to me who I was before. Yes I am much smarter than me 2 year ago.
And I feel frustrate. Because I video call to my 2 daughter and try to teach both … try to change them … open their eye … teach 1 word of english every night. Teach them about NeuroLink … about technology.
But they don’t want to know. Don’t want to learn.
And when that happen and I feel frustrate … I see myself how I was like that at 14yo.
I try to chat with my girlfriends and cannot now. They want to talk about everything basic and I want to talk about technology.
So I start now to understand what your head mistress tallk about … how we separate from basic level but not at your level … we caught in between. And that make us feel isolate. Yes I get it now.
That is why I cannot wait for sessions to start again. I feel I can be much better than 4 months ago.
You know something?
I never stop to dream about femdom and bdsm. I have Mistress dreams every night.
Last night I dream about control a man and his wife … in their home … in France!! I taught her how to be a Mistress and we sex torture her husband every day when he come home from work.
I woke up this morning and my pussy was so wet.
I did buy 1 thing from my Amazon money. Civilization 6 game. Because I saw on Facebook a group for it in Thai and made me want to try.
All my city has a bdsm name.
Fort Ballbreaker. BDSM City. Town of Men with Small Dicks. HumiliationVille.
But I lose every game. Just like my Jiu Jitsu … I am too nice. I want world peace but everybody make war and attack me.
So now I play Canada so nobody can war with me. I will make world peace!!
Ok that is my update. I cannot wait to Tease you again very soon.
SMS me anytime please. I love to talk with everybody. It keeps me company.
I still believe not until my birthday August 15 will everything start to be normal.
When sports comes back and I can watch hockey again … then I feel people will relax and start to remember to enjoy life.
Right now there is too much politics and protest.
And why? Because I think no sports. Sports is like the pill to make everybody calm down.
… and I am like the pill you take to get excited.
Don’t worry. Both pills coming after August 🙂
Mistress Wael
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I was trying to read, but the damn thing kept looking at me out of the corner of it’s eye. I can tell when I’m being eyeballed – call it a Mistress’s sixth sense.
No matter how much of my body – dressed head to toe in stockings and Domina attire – I partook to cover up , still I was being incessently eyeballed.
“Alright” I said, slamming my “Pandemics for Dummies” book on the sofa and watched it bounce twice like a rock skipping across a lake before landing upside down and open faced on the linoleum floor.
I struted toward it , pushing my cleavage – which was aching to burst from within the tight latex top it was hidden beneath – out towards my prey so that my tits looked like two black shiny cannons ready to lay any gawkers to waste.
“You want something to stare at you fucking pussy?” I scoffed while grabbing the stuffed cat from my bookshelf. “Fine, I’ll give you something to see and smell at the same time” I said as I pushed the head of the willfully submissive stuffed cat under my perfectly curvatious ass.
Then without notice I let rip a fabric bursting fart right into the feline’s nostrils and was stunned at the complacency it exhibited thereafter.
Indeed this stuffed submissive cat had experience in the ways of Femdom and servitude.
“Fine” I huffed. “You’re used to the dank smell of a Mistress’s farts are you?
“Then behold the rank odor of my pussy” I laughed as I jammed the cat’s head into the crevice of my pussy – covered only by the thin strip of G-String of my panties.
Again the cat was stoic. “This is one hard core slave” I thought out loud.
“Smell it you pussy” I yelled as I damn near suffocated the furry thing by jamming its whole nose and cute pink lips as far up my clit as any man or stuffed animal has ever been.
Yet, still nothing. Not a word of complaint from my submissive feline.
“If my ass and pussy cannot break you” I said , as I trampled it under the weight of my gorgeous leg …
“Then perhaps my foot will.”
And I squished its face into the floor, letting the feel of my fishnet stockings caress the top of its head.
I reached down to insert a finger ito it’s ass , but no hole was to be found.
“Ah, you think asexuality can protect you from total submission do you?” I asked quizzically.
But no reply escaped my stuffed cat’s lips.
“So be it … slave” I taunted.
I taped the furry slave upside down on the sofa and proceeded to sit on its face for the rest of the night as I watched John Wick on Netflix for the ninteenth time in three days.
I’d found the perfect slave.
Nary a whimper nor a meow’s worth of complaint ever escaped its lips.
I exhaled a sighing breathe of discontent and longed for the return of my slaves from around the world so that I may begin my search anew – for a slave as perfect as my stuffed cat.
xx
Book A Session
Looking to book a session? You can either email us :
Or fill out the form below. Don’t forget to check out my Loyalfans femdom blog , or Mistress Wael’s Loyalfans blog its a great way to get to know more about us through our photos , videos and daily stories.
There’s been a hell of a lot of scratchin’ pussy going on around here lately.
The question I’ve been asked the most , daily , is ‘how are ya hanging in through this Covid thing?’ and the answer I’ve given time after time makes you guys squirm in your pants and scream in frustration no doubt.
I’m fucking horny.
Every … single … available … white … cock has fled the city.
Leaving me to sit on the sofa here with two fingers of my left hand burried inside my ‘puss all day long as I do things on the computer with the right hand.
I shit you not … I cum about 10 times a day now.
It reminds me of when I was a teenager and I had begun to hang around a friend’s condo because there was this Swedish swimmer who would go for a swim every morning. He had a swimmers bod’ with these long lanky muscles which normally would have demanded all of my attention … if it weren’t for the navy blue ultra tight speedo trunks he wore. Yes , I remember the color. I even remember that the word Speedo was written in small white letters across the top of the ass part of his trunks. I remember all this because his junk , even when soft, was this unbelievably massive lump of compressed flesh.
I’d watch him from the pool office – a tiny room set behind the deep end of the pool , a little bit offset from the supply shed in front.
And in that office was this old fashioned microphone , the kind that would normally be fastened to the top of a table and the long metal neck could then be bent towards the mouth to speak into. Honestly, its use would be best served at a mall or at a community swimming pool , why it was laying in a decaying box at an unused condo pool was a complete mystery , but thank the gods someone had put it there.
To a 16 year old girl – staring at a man’s package that looked gargantuan even from a far – that phallic thing wasn’t a microphone, it was a cock.
For a while, every morning I’d sleep over at my girlfriends place – someone I didn’t even like that much – just to sit in that room and fuck my clit with my fingers while holding on to that rusty old microphone like it was the last cock on earth.
I had never been hornier in my life – until this week.
Yesterday I sat here on this couch from 6am until 9 at night loading every single bdsm video I have to the cloud. I’m opening a store page today you see , where you’ll be able to buy video packages grouped by fetish , with purchasing details all in one place. A decade worth of videos from sessions so old I can’t even remember them. Most made me laugh. No doubt you guys will opt for the Tease & Denial package or the Anal one perhaps , but my personal favorite is the Mistress’s Personalities video folder. That one has it all : orgasms, blowjobs, wind storms, screams … just us mistress’s being who we are outside of sessions.
But the one’s that reminded me of being original Mistress Jaa’s slave , those are the videos that made me soak my sofa with pussy juice all day.
I began my career as a Mistress eight years ago today. Except I wasn’t a Mistress at that time, I was Mistress Jaa’s sex slave.
My very first session with her, she had me naked and on all four’s like a dog on the floor.
Above me , laying down with his chest protruding over the edge of the bed was her male slave for the session and she had instructed him to drop candle wax on my back until there was more wax than skin showing.
Every time it hurt, she’d either spank him or twist his anal plug – violently. He’d yelp.
Back then I was really kinky but incredibly naive. I’d never seen a man being controlled like that , and his initial yelps of pain turned me on so much.
The first few drops of wax on my back were orgasmic.
Not only would I let out a gentle “ahhh” as I got used to the stinging splash of molten wax , I would then hear “you hurt her! I told you be careful, she’s new” and I’d hear the ‘whoop’ of her whip followed by a smack that echoed about the room.
It was the fact that I couldn’t see it happening that aroused me so much. But with his mouth directly over my back and behind my ear, I could hear the sincerity in his yelps of pain. Especially when she’d give the massive butt plug a good 360 degree spin.
Actually , you know what I remember. Now that I think about it, I remember my nipples being so aroused that they were lactating. And worse, with me having to hold a doggy position , they were uncomfortably stretched out every time my back would arch at a splash of wax.
So , I was watching the video of that session as it loaded and when it ended it auto played the next video sitting in that folder.
It’s a folder I haven’t opened in nearly a decade , and with so many video files numerically named from the source camera, I had no idea what was on each one.
I had totally forgotten that she went and recorded some extra footage that night after the guy had left.
At first she was filming my back telling me how hot it looked.
Then as she circled around me she caught a drop of liquid shining below my nipple and I flinched as she forcefully lapped it up with her finger asking “what’s that?”
“Me too’ she added as she collected wetness from between her legs and jammed it under my nose.
The camera got placed sideways on the ‘Ben 10’ decorated bed comforter and in the video you can hear her say “come, do your job.”
You can’t see anything in the video , nothing but the skin of her hip area and a fold of the comforter covering half the bottom part of the lens.
But … you can hear me eating her pussy like it was the last meal left on earth.
And then you hear her cum moments after. Yes, I’m that good at eating pussy … or at least I was back then.
At the same time she came in the video , I came here on the couch last evening. That was my 10th and final orgasm of the day.
See, I had been turned on by video after video, and no shit … by mid afternoon I was so desperate for cock that I would have fucked the Grab Food delivery guy had by any fortune at all , he’d have been a foreigner.
It’s not like I fuck at all under normal circumstances. I don’t.
But it’s the absence of dick which is driving me to be so horny. Does that make sense?
It doesn’t make sense to me at all, it’s this weird biological mating phenomenon that’s going on in my brain I think.
Yes it doesn’t help that I exacerbated the problem by watching our bdsm videos all day , but I’ve been excessively horny since all the foreigners went back home.
Like, I’ll walk to the supermarket and see what’s left of the male species and somewhere inside my brain this silent alarm is going off saying “incompatible, incompatible, incompatible.”
So last night , at the peak of my horniness , I pick up the phone and call Wael to complain about the dirth of good men around.
She agrees , saying that there’s only 1 of her slaves left and he happens to be living on her street.
“Are you seeing him” I ask, and I find out that she’s been using him for her custom videos , but not for sex.
Then , a faint lightbulb goes off in my head. I excuse myself from the phone conversation and begin to pace around my condo.
“Nah, couldn’t still be here” I mumble.
There are exactly two slaves loyal to me who choose to stay in this very condo everytime they’re in the city. There’s a chick who runs an Air B’nB in a unit a few floors above me and I’ve recommended it to a few boys as it makes hooking up for sessions incredibly easy.
I get it in my mind that I just have to know. Is that room a few floors directly above me housing the last remaining femdom slave in the city?
And if there is indeed a useable slave in that unit, just how many fun ways could I sexually assault him in one evening?
If … big if here , but let’s just say the guy I’m thinking of is indeed still here … he’s not all that good looking. But … he does have a long curved cock, the kind that could hit my aching g-spot nicely.
Then the thought of cleanliness passes through my mind.
It’s been 2 days since I’ve hopped in the shower. I haven’t changed my panties in 3 days. My pussy has a 5 alarm smell associated with it , toxic by any measure.
My hair looks the part of a girl who’s orgasmed 10 times in a single day unmoved from sofa upon which she has sat.
And I haven’t worn makeup in 2 whole weeks.
That being said … I still look fuckable. At least that’s what I say to myself in the mirror before I swipe the condo keys from the kitchen cabinet , slide into my flip flops and strut out the door towards the stairwell.
Just before I knock on the door of the condo I go over in my mind how I might present myself?
Shall I try the “oh hiiiii” innocent girl approach?
Or perhaps the trailer trash “oh hey, my sink’s clogged upstairs, can you come fix it for me?” is a good obvious invitation to get laid with minimal words needed thereafter.
‘Aw fuck’ I thought, ‘he’s submissive, these thoughts are unnecessary’ and I made up my mind to push him against the wall as soon as he opens the door and do what a good mistress does … take control.
Knock. Knock.
Nothing. No answer. No movement detected either. Fuck.
I knock again.
And then suddenly, the door swings open , and cue the ‘hallelujah sound effects‘ … there he is … the last slave in the city … standing before me in jeans and a scruffy white t-shirt.
He calls out my name in surprise. My real name, and he doesn’t add the prefix Mistress to it.
And I can’t help it. It’s instinct. 8 years of being a mistress pops into my head and totally overrides the wetness between my legs.
“You’re still here?” I ask sharply.
“Ya … I can’t get any flights out so I ….” no way I’m letting him finish, I cut him off abrubtly.
“Why the fuck have you not been delivering food to my door every morning then?”
“oh?” he is taken aback by my anger, “I…I…”
“I what?”
“I’m sorry Mistress. I will. I promise.”
“Kiss my foot. Say you’re sorry.” Shut up girl, think about your pussy , why the fuck are you talking like this to him , you’ll not get laid if you keep this up. I’m having a heated silent mental argument with myself as this guy gets down on his knees and grovels at my foot.
I could still fuck him right there and then. He wouldn’t resist either.
But then I start getting thoughts about how fun it would be to rub my noxious pussy in his nose and hear him gagging below me.
Just as soon as I begin to ponder on that thought, another one flies into my brain … one of him doing my laundry tomorrow , something I haven’t done since the beginning of March.
Suddenly, my pussy ain’t horny anymore. Instead I’m watching him kiss my feet and my mind is filling with thousands of ways I can use this last slave on earth.
I have this rapid fantasy fly through my head that I no longer want Covid to wipe out 50% of the population, but rather 99.999% , leaving just him and me alive in the city. And I can use him as I wish until the end of days.
Or fill out the form below. Don’t forget to check out my Loyalfans femdom blog , or Mistress Wael’s Loyalfans blog its a great way to get to know more about us through our photos , videos and daily stories.
Covid-19 , if I’m wrong, then this viral spread will appear severe, but in reality will only last a few months , and slowly but surely everything will return to a somewhat normal state at first – and eventually we’ll return to life as we once knew it with nothing much changing.
Fuck.
If I’m right though …. IF I’m right …. then this is a necessary planetary culling , one that will wipe out a significant % of the global population and will cause society to hit a reset button of sorts. But on the other side lays a better humanity. After all, I’m already seeing better behaviour in all sorts of men and women.
Since I have so many thoughts about this, I’m going to present this post in essay topic form so that you can jump to whatever topic interests you the most.
I’m going to begin by talking about the “actions of faith” that the rich part of the world is relying on and how I hope that will be the catalyst to allow this thing to spread like wildfire. Then I’m going to poke fun at the irony of who is best positioned to survive an apocolyptic spread. I’ll follow that up with some trippy existential shit that you may or may not need to be a bit high to equally identify with, and finally for you femdom/bdsm lovers I’m going to finish off of course with some acute observations of how this disruption in our daily lives has already altered human behaviours in regards to relationships.
Okay? You’ve all been to your local cannibis store? Got your supply in front of you? Good, let’s begin.
Actions of Faith
Three months into this Covid-19 spread and two things are crystal clear. Who would have thought that a killer virus striking first at the heart of the China, ye of the biggest population in the world – would have little to no lasting impact due to the form of government control westerner’s despise the most – Socialism. And how ironic that it might be that capitalism and the countries which support such a system will be the harbinger of doom.
China’s the only country that’s flattened the curve.
Mistress Wael is spot on … every single democratic country in the world has a near vertical spread of the virus as of today. Why is that?
Actions of Faith is the answer. USA , Canada, England , whatever – pick your country – they all are depending on their population to act sensibly , follow suggestions and guidelines … in one massive Action of Faith … to save the planet.
China on the other hand put the fate of their nation in mandatory emergency laws immediately enacted – and the police & military to instantly enforce it. Sometimes violently , and surely against the wishes of the populace. If you subscribe to conspiracy theories then they also borrowed a trick from the USA on 9/11 by also SBI’ing a site that ‘happened’ to have Covid patients stored inside.
(SBI = Sudden Building Implosion) … it’s kinda like Spontaneous Human Combustion … except this phenomenon only happens when and where its in the governments best interests to happen.
And if you believe in random Twitter tweets then they also bagged and cremated living contaminated persons , which is one way I suppose to snuff out a culling before it can get started.
Hey, whatever it takes. Drastic times call upon drastic actions , isn’t that the quote? Or is that “with great power comes great responsibility?” I dunno, I get genocide and spiderman all confused in my mind sometimes.
Point is … China got shit done.
The democratic world? Not so much.
Don’t get mad at them , they’re the same folk who voted Trump to be the leader of the free world. Don’t worry, I’ll get to that later on.
In a unique period of time where time cannot be wasted , and each passing day without Chinese like action is a death sentence for not only a nation’s populace but perhaps even the world – putting trust in the masses to act sensibly is such a hillariously ineffective thing to do.
But here’s thing thing I’ve noticed by listening to umpteen podcasts , interviews and news reports this past week … the western world truly believes that Actions of Faith will work, and civil rights must not be stepped on too much.
This is what happens when you take a woman who had to suck no less than 1000 cocks and in her lifetime had to swallow no doubt more than 100 Gallons of cum to become entitled enough that she gets pushed in front of a camera that reports “news” to the dumbest Americans that country has to offer… and she’s allowed to voice her thoughts nationally.
I would love for SouthPark to do an episode where Star Trek’s Scottie beams that chick from her Fox TV studio desk to China’s TV news desk – and let’s see what happens when she tries the same thoughtspeak there. I’ll tell you what’d happen. It’d be like this scene in The Joker but without the screaming from the audience cuz they’d be like “yup that’s what happens when you say shit like that here.”
But Actions of Faith doesn’t just apply to the spring break party crowd , or the one generation older ‘Ya But’ crowd.
(“Ya i’m staying inside, BUT , I just needed to go out and get some smokes, buy a gun, load up on video games for the kids)
Governments are putting faith in their doctors and nurses to maintain their posts on the front lines – they’re our soldiers from World War Two.
I know what you think I’m gonna say .. “imagine soldiers fighting without guns” as a parallel to “medical staff without ventilators and masks.”
Nah, I’ve had conversations with doctor’s and nurses with much more grim stories. Ah you forget, I’m a Mistress to over 100,000 men around the world, most of whom hold very high ranking positions in a variety of fields.
Check out this conversation I’ve been having with an American doctor who is just about ready to put his Plan B into action. He first emailed me asking if us Thai’s are experiencing a run on toilet paper “I find it curious that come the apocolypse, fellow Americans are panicking about ‘how will I wipe my asshole?’ more than they’re concerened about food. Is there a run on toiltet paper over there as well?”
“well, we don’t use toilet toilet paper at all , every toilet has water spray. masks tho … every single person is wearing one , every…single…one (and has been for a month)
the word groupthink comes to mind , Orwell’s 1984. So did you not feel safe at your hospital, is that why you’re moving to a smaller one?”
“It’s a weekend OR shift at a smaller hospital, so I’ll still be doing what I’m doing now, but on the weekends instead. That means a little slower pace and more autonomy at the cost of less available help if shit hits the fan. There are a lot of perks for taking this job: It’s closer to my house and I can take a route that doesn’t have a lot of traffic, there’s no “on call” requirements, so I can sleep all night every night, I get a weekend pay differential that will get me about an extra ten thou a month, and I just prefer working weekends and going out in the middle of the week. Also, my current hospital is a garbage fire, so it’ll be nice to get away from that. It’s a For-Profit hospital and they just make too many cuts to save money. They recently slashed employee benefits and laid off a couple dozen people and then announced shortly after how their stock hit an all time high, so they obviously give no fucks about their employees and are completely tone deaf about it. The new place is Not-For-Profit, so it should be a better work environment since we don’t have to worry about keeping shareholders happy.
Hospital floors in the US are definitely going to be a mess for the rest of the year, though. I read that the average hospital in the US is designed to run at 95% capacity, so if we have hundreds of thousands of coronavirus cases hitting across the country, it’s going to completely overwhelm the system. There are definitely going to be some people who die because there aren’t enough ventilators to go around who would have otherwise been ok. It’ll be a nightmare for floor nurses, but SHOULDN’T impact my OR too much (unless someone stumbles on a surgical cure somehow…heh).
jaa4u.com | Goddess <[email protected]>
Fri, Mar 20, 8:12 AM (2 days ago)
to Dr.Nicholas
that’s exactly what the epidimiolgist guy said about Milan ( https://youtu.be/E3URhJx0NSw?t=180 ) , that due to the lack of ventilators , they’re having to choose who lives and who they let die.
But listen to what he said just before that … about nurses and doctors having to work even though they themselves have tested positive … because they’d literally have nobody to work in the hospital if they sent employees home who tested positive.
Do you think something like that would happen in either of your workplaces?
I don’t know about the new place, but I’m 100% sure my current place would force people to work. They already write up employees who call in sick more than 3 times a year and calling in 5 times in one year can be grounds for dismissal. My current employer could be the poster child for “What Is Wrong With Mixing Capitalism And Healthcare.”
Can I ask , what’s your “fuck it, i’m out” point? Do you even have one?
You’re a front line worker, but I’ve always seen you as a ‘fuck it, I’m just a doctor cuz it gives me a nice lifestyle” kind of guy, and not one of the ‘first responder, put my life on the line’ kind of guy.
I’m totally a “fuck it, I’m out” kind of girl. Hope you are too.
If indeed you are a ‘fuck this’ kind of guy, what’s your Plan B ?
Must be so fucking nice to be single at a time like this eh. You can actually put into motion a Plan B without having to discuss it.
It’s spreading to your state. Did you see the numbers rise?
Glad you moved to a smaller hospital. Take care of yourself my slave. If you survive this I’ll tease your balls so much that the explosion will be legendary. Fuck I might even graduate you from toe sucker to thigh licker if you pull through.
I don’t have a hard set “Fuck it, I’m out” point. I think I’ll know it when I see it. I definitely have no plans to struggle to survive, though. I’m not suicidal, but I’m ok with dying. I’ve basically been patiently waiting to die for the last decade or so. I’m perfectly fine with trudging along one day at a time in the OR while everything is on easy mode, but as soon as this shit takes a turn towards Mad Max, I’m going to punch my own ticket. I have a 12 gauge and some buckshot. If this goes apocalyptic, I’ll just swiss cheese my brain stem. I guess that’s my plan B.
Starting Monday, hospitals in the state are shutting down all non-emergency surgeries, which is about 95% of the cases we do. I don’t know if they have plans for the staff elsewhere but from what I hear they’re going to send everyone home to protect profits, just as Covid patients are arriving en-masse.
The whole thing hasn’t really “hit” the state yet. People are still complaining that everything is an overreaction. Most business are closed or have reduced hours, schools and other government buildings are closed, but instead of staying home, everyone here is going to the beach and having parties. No one is learning lessons from China, Italy, California, New York, etc and when it does hit here, I think it’s going to hit hard. Hell, just yesterday with the floor overrun with new Covid patients the hospital bought pizza for the OR staff… I can’t think of a worse food in a pandemic. You have to touch other people’s pizza piece when you get your own and then you eat the whole thing with your hands and instinctively suck the sauce from the fingers afterwards … and these are fellow doctors and nurses on the floor interacting with patients contaminated with the virus.
This hospital has about a week’s left of supplies for all the staff to operate safely. Fuck that. I’ll be fine if I can transition to the other job or if the world goes back to normal after a few months, but anything other than that and I’m probably looking at my plan B.
Survivors of the Apocolypse
Does anyone else find it as ironic as me that the three countries which will best survive the Apocolypse are :
China , with its Communist ideologies and massive populice, who can finally trade in rats for pizza as their new food source as they spread out and assume the unclaimed lands of Italy.
North Korea , they’ll be like the runner up on Survivor, – the girl who did nothing all season but somehow made it to Final Tribal council and got no votes.
Russia , who not only will control all Vodka production, but will bring back the Lada as the car of the new world.
I too might have to swiss cheese my brain stem because I have virtually 0 guys interested femdom & bdsm from those countries. The only thing I know how to say in Russian is Я машина , or , “I am the Machine”
North Korean behaviour , as I understand from the Werner Herzog documentary Into the Inferno , means that if one ever does show up at my front door , the session would play out like a scene from this Bugs Bunny cartoon since they lack the ability to think and speak for themselves:
Chinese slaves , I have a few , but fuck man, it’s like roasting one inch frankfurters on a BBQ with hair tweezers. That’s what I have to look forward to ? On second thought … exit , stage left.
Trippy Existential Shit
Inhale. … yes including you Mr.Clinton.
Ok, read.
One of my favourite stories from World of Warcraft is the Culling of Stratholme because of just how macabre, but necessary it was in my opinion. I sided with Arthus on this issue.
What if, we just replaced a few words here and there in WoW’s wiki on Stratholme …
“The Culling of Stratholme[2] is the first major event of the Third War, signalling the first act in Arthas Menethil’s descent into madness and evil, the suspending of the Knights of the Silver Hand from service and the destruction of the second most important city of the kingdom of Lordaeron.”
becomes …
The Culling of the Planet Earth is the first major event after the Second War signalling the first act in Donald Trump’s descent into madness and evil, the suspending of the antiquated forms of Government from service and the destruction of the second most important continent of the kingdom of Earth. (Cuz let’s face it, Europe’s #1 … we need Germans to survive this for their engineering and efficiency , and Italy for their delicious food.)
What if this is a reset button for society?
I absolutely love that there is this invisible enemy that at some point in the next 30 days will have forced ALL of mankind back into their caves, their huts, their homes to “Shelter in Place” … which is a human made phrase that George Carlin would have loved to have made fun of. Let’s call it what it is shall we? “Hide in Fear”
In the 18 months while we all have to hide in fear , there will be a whole year and a half for animals to multiply without being hunted. Which means the deer population will spread out of control. If you’ve listened to any virus expert … ie: people WAYYYYYYY smarter than you or me , then you know of the next world virus they’re concerned about named CWD – Chronic Wasting Disease.
Where is this virus originating? USA of course.
What country is most ill prepared to handle Covid-19 ? USA of course.
Now it hasn’t happened yet – that this virus can spread to humans, but it can’t be ruled out that it might.
The virus eats at the deer’s brain , causing it to slowly lose its ability to function, like this deer’s ability to walk normally …
Thing is, the disease has a rabies componant to it … see that deer frothing white foam at the mouth?
The deer become agressive , and unnaturally run at other animals and humans in a mad attempt to bite them and spread the virus.
Once that disease hosts itself successfully in a human like Covid-19 can , then we have human’s acting like the fast zombies in the movie 28 Days Later biting one another.
Woooo Hooooo , fun eh?
So I got to thinking that with Covid-19 and maybe soon CWD , what if this is like the big red button in Mimiron’s room, a boss in World of Warcraft.
Except it’s not me or you choosing to touch it or not. But rather it’s “God” , or “Mother Nature” or “the entity of the Universe” saying ‘ok you had your chance, you fucked up, time to do a culling on human life so that you can reset yourself.”
Why not?
We have this antiquated government system promoted by the ‘free world’ where we all collectively vote for one magical person to guide not a village of people as the idea started from , but instead lead hundreds of millions of people.
But instead of choosing from not a selected pool of great minds to lead us … let’s choose the biggest idiot we can find, a man of the rednecks , Donald Trump.
And , around him , let’s devise a system like my doctor friend mentioned above where citizens are lied to and told that health care must be paid for instead of being free , and let’s make those hospitals publically traded companies.
Put those hospitals fate in the hands of the stock market people … cocaine snorting , uneducated salesman who get hired to push stock sales because they claim they have a ‘system’ to predict the anarchy of stock fluctuations.
Oh and hey, let’s keep 1/2 the world living paycheque to paycheque , and a good 10% in absolute poverty so that when a virus hits and people have to “Hide in Fear” for 3 months, the world either dies all at once or spirals into another great depression.
And how about human behaviour? The micro of which i’ll get to in a moment, but how about the macro?
You know, the reactions to this Covid-19 thing on Twitter have been nothing short of astounding. Have you been paying attention to the reaction shifts?
First, about a month ago when it began in Wuhan the denziens of Twitter began phase 1 … Tweeting about news about Covid-19 to show they’re “in the know” , just before returning to their Candy Crush Suga’ game on the commute into work.
Then phase 2 of Twitter’s reaction was the “This is me reacting to news of peeps dyin’ in Italy y’all” followed by a meme or a selfie with a shocked look on the face … tweeted just before they went back to liking somebody’s food choice for lunch on Facebook.
Then began phase 3 , millions of people tweeting out the year’s new catchy phrase “Weapon’s of Mass Destruction” … err, oops, I mean #flattenthecurve y’all. “We gots to flatten this shit bitches” … tweeted out before returning to another 20 rounds of Call of Duty.
Sometime in the last 7 days saw the most dramatic change I’ve ever seen on Twitter.
People put down their phones for the first time in years , and actually began to discover a lost sense of “community”, something that my parents and your parents have learned and supported through many disasters in their lifetimes.
Stories and tweets about “who needs help?” , “how I’m helping do my part to save the world” , and vidoes of people knocking on old people’s doors and offering to go on a food run for them began appearing all of a sudden.
The Italians, and The French , and the Chinese all uniting to sing from the balconies in solidarity , and cheering health workers of their country as recognition that they are our modern day infantry. All being tweeted while … helping others.
Maybe they’re all realizing that this could very well be a global reset button … if it continues to spread like wildfire over the next 30 days , and reaches a point where it’s uncontrollable.
What I’m saying is, maybe there is hope for humanity.
But to get there and realize that hope, maybe a few hundred million need to die first. Maybe me included.
It was interesting to me that up until a week ago the “brains of the UK” (yes the same ones who pushed hard for “Brexit – the playful fun name that’s been given to a disaster ) , came up with the novel idea of letting their citizens willingly die as their method of dealing with Covid-19.
Mind you, their intial idea was begat from the core idea of preserving the value of the world’s strongest currency by keeping absolutely everything in England operating as normal.
But the idea of just letting Covid-19 infect the entire populace of the UK , and letting a pre-determined % die off , while quickly having the survivors be immune to Covid-19 , at a rate far ahead of the rest of the world’s immunability … was ballsy if not brilliant.
Of course the British public figured out the plan rather quickly and voted a strong NO to UKExit.
Damn. (sorry Rob)
How the fuck am I going to have a chance to see half the world die if people keep trying to live ???? I need human stupidity to prevail. Oh, thank you India , that 14 hour country-wide lockdown is exactly what we need to accelerate this Covid-19 spread.
Covid-19 and Femdom | Altering Human Behaviour
As you know, I lead quite the solitary life. It comes with the job , anonymity I’ve found is my greatest friend when it comes to helping me become a renowned Mistress.
I was born three months pre-mature as most of you know , and having survived I’ve been tagged with a -3 to immune system with regards to dust allergies.
Therefore, I might be wrong in my own self-assessment, but I think I’d be one of the one’s who would deteriorate quickly and die horribly if I caught the Covid-19 virus.
So for a month now, I’ve locked myself inside my condo here all alone. I’ve left twice , both times with gloves scarf and mask to look for a new place to move to as my lease expires here on March 31st.
Other than that , I’ve been writing, watching Netflix , and finding things to do to occupy my time.
When this Covid-19 threat first started whipping people into a panic , one of my favourite hobbies of fucking with men’s minds on Tinder dating app disappeared as all communication came to a surprising instantaneous halt.
Us young people don’t date like our older generations did.
We swipe , looking for a visually stimulating hot looking guy in my case – girl in your case. We chat a couple of times and agree to hook up for a meeting. At said meeting , usually over coffee , we both are making moment by moment judgements as to whether or not there’s gonna be any action happening later on … be it in the simple form of a kiss goodbye, or full on fucking under the covers later that night.
Guys aren’t stupid. I don’t know why we think they are when it comes to dating.
When such face-to-face dates aren’t going well, I have no qualms at all about smiling and saying nicely that there’s nothing going on at all chemistry wise , and excusing myself from the coffee shop right there and then. Which is a good thing for the guy anyways as none of them are ever going to fuck me , my intention is to simply give them the illusion they can and will , only to monitor their individual reactions.
Other girls though , they have ghosting techniques that are so predictable by men.
10 minutes into the date they’ll get a “surprise” call from “cousin Ashley” , who has called to “shockingly report” that grandma had a plane engine fall through her house from the sky and killed her instantly. Thus, the girl absolutely must regrettably excuse herself from the date … and once outside the restaurant immediately block all Facebook, Line, WhatsApp, and Instagram contacts with the dude. ie: Ghosting.
As if guys didn’t know, right?
Well, starting about a week ago, Tinder responses started happening again. That’s right – as more and more of the world’s population has been forced into their huts ‘n homes , Tinder dating has popped back to life !
By way of … virtual first dates.
I had 3 of these video chat first dates just this week. And let me tell you this … there have been some very noticeable changes in human behaviour , thanks to this Covid-19 crisis. I can’t help but wonder if these changes are temporary or permanent?
Change #1 – Nakedness
I’ve done all 3 first dates wearing an unwashed t-shirt , a bit of makeup but not much , my unwashed hair ponytailed back , and absolutely nothing but my bare legs and pussy coiled up on the sofa down below.
All 3 guys I’ve dated have had unkempt hair, and a shirt ‘n tie on.
So I asked all 3 guys to stand up and back off in front of the camera so I could see a whole body shot. All 3 initially refused.
Know why? Cuz they’re naked too !!! Well almost, it seems guys love to wear boxer shorts or tight ball hugging undies while locked up at home.
It’s a great laugh , so my recommendation to you guys is to call your first dates out on the same thing and see how our gender reacts. It’s a great ice-breaker !! And you’ll come off as saavy ‘n smart to boot.
Change #2 – Ghosted, really?
Truly , there must be nothing more humiliating as a man than at a time in the world where your video date is locked inside her house with nothing else to do thanks to Covid-19 – that she’d rather ghost you and be alone than talk to another human being.
Worse than that, there’s now no surprise phone call from a friend and the announcement of another dead grandma trajedy. Nope, now it’s just “insta-black” on the guy’s screen followed by “loss of connection” message.
On redial, the girl’s ghosted you , blocked you.
Hasn’t happened to me yet , but remember it’s always the guys chasing the girls’ approval , and never the other way around, even in these new Covid-19 times we’re living in.
This is the ultimate femdom humiliation for a man isn’t it?
That’s why I think this Online Femdom Session idea that Mistress Wael is promoting is so tenuous for you guys … to be ghosted by a Mistress, of whom there are so few in the world, that must be worth an orgasm or two before the crying sets in, amiright?
Change #3 – The Real Me
I know, or at least I think I know, just about every single line, move and social gimmick that guys use on a Tinder date. I have to keep dating guys on Tinder as research because a first Tinder date is in no way at all close to a first BDSM / Femdom session meeting.
I use Tinder to keep myself grounded on what’s really going on out there in the world. If I relied solely on Mistress – Slave interactions as my guideposts to life, I’d be lost.
Guys are wholly predictable.
I have a few rules to deal with them , like, I never answer a question. I answer a question with a question of my own, it allows me to maintain the power in a conversation. It’s a tip I got from a CIA interrogator 5 years ago , right before I whipped his ass for an hour and got him to say Thank You Mommy over a hundred times.
Until this week I could honestly say , especially after my latest 100 Tinder dates experiment , that I knew pretty much what each guy was going to say and do 5 minutes into the date. Without fail. Maybe the occasional exception , but even the one’s who surprised me would regress to the mean eventually.
Until this week.
Tinder first dates on video have baffled me. At first I thought it’s because of me, that I’m relying on my English so much to make an impression … not my strongest gun in my arse(enal).
It wasn’t until half way through the 3rd video date that I caught on to what was happpening.
Guys were being themselves.
They were being that guy who’s invited friends over for Sunday afternoon football and shooting the shit over a few beers. The guy who watches a basketball game in his undies , itches his crotch , and takes a whiff to judge the smell. The guy who wipes his armpits with his hands and dries them on his jeans. The guy who when alone picks his nose and flicks it across the room towards the laundry basket. The guy who leans over and rips a window shattering fart and sniffs the air a moment later to see if it reeks or not.
That guy.
Why? Why are these guys talking to me like I’m Joe , their best friend from grade 2 who’s been with them through thick and thin until I was best man at his wedding? Or best girl as it were.
Seriously, I caught the 2nd guy smelling his balls on camera after wiping them. He did it without even noticing. Never once has a guy done that while out on a real world date with me. Fuck , I don’t even know if I’d ghost a guy who did that, I’d probably commend him for acting so naturally.
I closed my laptop yesterday and pondered this new phenomenon over a box of fettucine alfredo that I had just ordered.
Then it hit me an hour later.
He knows!!!!
He knows he’s got nothing to lose.
There’s no action to be playing for , or fearful of. No goodbye kiss , no pussy to eat or fuck later on at night , nothing. No chips are in on the poker table for him , he’s just leanin’ back , looking at his dealt hand , sniffin’ his balls, and sayin’ “ah what the hell.”
With that , there is nothing to lose. Guys are finally being guys. Especially when I go into Mistress mode and order them to stand up and show me their boxers on camera.
All 3 laughed , one even jumped and slammed his foot yelling “fuck how do you know, how did you know? ” and immediately ripped off his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt.
I told him “go put on a tshirt and be you dude, I’ll wait”
“Fuck ya, hold on” he cheered back.
The third guy , when I called him on wiping his groing and sniffing his finger simply said “fuck, did I just do that? Did you see that?”
“Fuck ya” I said, “what’s the defcon rating?” I asked,
“Defcon rating … as in , how many more days can you wear those undies before definitely having to wash them”
“Oh fuck ” he laughed , “these have at least two or three more days in them.”
“Right on” I said, “mine are well into day 4, I’ll show you the smear on mine if you show me the smear on yours.”
“Hahaha” he burst out laughing , “you’re fucking cool you know that?”
“So are you” I smiled.
Know what? I kind of like these new Covid-19 guys , I hope the change is permanent in all you guys.
So stay safe ok , if Covid and the zombie deers that are coming after don’t kill us, we’re all gonna have some fun shit to talk about 🙂
xx
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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.
Mistress Wael and I have diverged this year. In a good way methinks.
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?
I cried.
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
Untied him.
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.
i·ro·ny1
/ˈīrənē/
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.
https://youtu.be/hjojbfF3pzI
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?
Deal?
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
Which brings us to exactly 2 guys who successfully lept through all the hoops I had laid out before them.
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.
“It’s just embarrassing, that’s what it is. I mean, there’s no way a girl should even consider telling me what to do and there’s actaally no way I’d obey. So listen, I’ll be here when you’re ready to date a real guy, but first … you’ll have to stop being a girl like that.”
This, written to me by an ESL teacher who’s chances with me were fading quicker than LeBron James’ hairline having being rebuked in twenty two consecutive emails , is a microcosm of the attitudes pervasive throughout most men looking to date in this city.
That he went on to call me a prostitute one sentence later and then ended that email by verbally “leaving the door open” to a future date with him … well it shows he’s in dire need of a kick to the groin and sent for a lap around Lumpini park to think about life.
Prostitute, yeesh. I haven’t even been laid yet this year.
Isn’t having sex one of the more important qualifiers of being a bar girl?
Truth is, I’m more alone than you are with your thoughts at the end of the night.
So it stands to reason that one of the things I’m really enjoying this year is the many Mistress Girlfriend Sessions I’ve been agreeing to go on.
To me, I can’t think of anything more perfect that being a Mistress Girlfriend other than perhaps one day being a Mistress Wife … if indeed I could find someone so bold as to take such a permanent step towards a life of servitude.
Rather than entering into a blood feud for reasons unknown with a jerk like the one above or the thousands like him that lurk on Tinder , I’ve found being a travelling seductress a lifestyle that suits me rather well.
I can honestly say – beyond a shadow of a doubt – that I’ve now given 18 guys the vacation of their lives.
Wait one ‘sec whilst I reach over and pat myself on the back for being the perfect girlfriend.
There, done.
[two_third]
Where can you find a girl who will … go skydiving with you , bungee jump off the world’s tallest bridge for said sport , agree to snap photos of us together in a shark cage , climb a volcano , climb a montain , go cave crawling , lift weights with ya … and ask for seconds of each?
Well … maybe I wouldn’t do the bungee jumping again … truth be told I passed out when the guy counted down to 1 and I looked at the kilometer between my toes and the river below me for the first time.
Woke up hanging upside down 20 meters above a river … looked up at the tiny bridge a mile above … and promptly peed myself.
Maybe it’s just the relatively small sample size of you guys that I’ve been on these trips with … but it seems like the majority of you are just ready to burst with all this potential energy that’s been building up over the years … and once I’ve set it free you all unleash The Crocodile Hunter guy that’s been hiding inside of you.
You know, at the beginning of these Mistress Girlfriend experiences , I was wondering how they’d actually play out.
I remember a story (original) Jaa told me of her time in Indonesia where she locked herself in her bedroom for three days because the guy thought such a trip would involve her milking him 24/7.
She was never able to full grasp the power of being a Mistress though , only seeking to constantly please and in the end it was her downfall.
Me, being more of a “let’s go have fun” kind of girl … I’d say my personality has dictated the fun way these sessions have played out.
I suppose that’s why I’m writing this today , to shed some light on how a Mistress Girlfriend trip plays out with me … and contrast it with Mistress Wael’s type of day as we differ greatly in how we manoever our way through a typical day on such a trip.
Because I’ve studied men for hundreds of years before coming to Earth , I know that the male species loves my beauty and yet fears my personality.
I’ll use the former to freeze an entire restaurant as we pass through and then use the latter to leave you speechless as you stare at me from across the table wondering what new and hurtful things I’m going to do to you later that night.
So in reality, there’s three girls you’re spending time with.
The adventurous me who never says no to any outdoor activity.
The stunning me who makes the butterflies in your stomach never cease to fly.
And lastly , there’s the playful me … who makes ‘after dark’ something you count down the seconds towards as we meander our way though the day.
Happily, I’ve yet to meet a guy who doesn’t want to spend time with all three types of me on his Mistress Girlfriend trip.
And luckily, there’s been a silent understanding that letting the three of me blend into one another makes for a fabulous time.
See, I’m aware …. that you’re aware … that things could get really wild at any given moment.
The promise of something equisitely erotic happening to you just around the corner is the glue that keeps these trips so tantalizing … but it’s perfectly balanced in my opinion by the mutual agreement that there’s a time and place (re: evening) for the Mistress / Slave side of the relationship to be explored.
Therin lays the real reason why these trips have been so successful I think … it’s that they mirror pretty much exactly what a real Mistress / Slave relationship would be like … if it was indeed something that continued long term.
Yes .. there’s the spontaneous order I may give … or behaviour on my part that catches you off guard from time to time. Just enough to remind you that you’re not walking arm in arm with a normal kind of girl.
But there’s also that space that let’s each of us be who we are , and so far that space has been mutually respected on every trip.
Which makes the eveningss such a joy.
Like, for example … the time I was in that shark cage … I was fucking terrified.
When finally the cage was being pulled up and the sun above made it like I was looking right into the briefcase from “Pulp Fiction” I thought “ok I survived this … and while it was fun … when we get back to land , and more specifically the bedroom tonight … I’m going to make this guy pay for the fear he just put me through.”
Before that though , we had a wonderful dinner by the sea where the hours drifted away with pleasant conversation.
When we finally got back to the hotel I poured him a glass of wine , turned the tv on for him and beckoned him to relax on the sofa while I went and showered.
Twenty minutes later I walked in front of him totally naked and asked him if he’d prefer to continue watching TV or would he indeed prefer play a game of kissing my feet and seeing how far up my body he could make it.
I put my sport watch on the glass covered coffee table with a 30 minute timer … and when said timer finally counted down to zero he was allowed to advance 6 whole inches up my leg and begin his kissing anew.
To my benefit , I got to watch 2 whole movies before he got anywhere close to the area between my thighs that made focusing on the 3rd movie rather difficult.
In the end, after his legs had gone numb from four straight hours of grovelling his way up my legs … he was instructed to somehow stand up and jerk his swollen rock hard red dick and stop just before cumming.
And just as he let go his grip on his ‘mighty python’ … I caged the damn thing … and sent him to his room for the night … reminding him to have my morning coffee served up promptly at 8am the next morning.
The days and nights play out much the same with me willingly following along with whatever you as the tour guide have planned for the day … while the nights belong to me.
Give and take. Ying and yang.
As the nights of the trip progress I escalate the slave mistress romance … perhaps , maybe … allowing you into my sleeping chambers one night to see just how well behaved you can be.
It’s a cruel trick that I love doing on the Tinder dates which turn out well.
The ultimate test , by my view of things … is to be asked to sleep beside and perhaps lightly touching that which you want to penetrate oh so much … but knowing that any attempts to do so will attach serious consequences.
There have been occasions … not many , but a few … where one glass of wine too many has led the slave a little bit over the line for a moment and at the height of his raging heart I’ll invite him to spoon me and leave his wood to die a slow death pushed against my back as I drift off to sleep.
To date , nobody’s been able to survive beyond a second night allowed in my chambers.
I’m not sure why just yet, but the Slave crowd isn’t quite as good at problem solving as the Tinder dates who are presented with the same puzzles.
I need you guys to be Neo , a man simply able to download a new skill set when required , and thus progress to the next level.
The last guy I vacationed with as his Mistress sent me an email saying he felt like he was in the movie “Groundhog Day” , trying to solve the traps laid out by his Mistress and that he was so close to solving me , but that he ran out of time.
I asked him “would you do it again?”
“In a heartbeat , no hesitation.” he replied.
Perhaps he was recalling the final night in Dubai when I finally let him release with a scream so loud that his ex wife stopped working in her garden briefly to look up at the skies and smile.
If that kind of psychological torture has you stroking your beard and considering a safer alternative , there is Mistress Wael’s Mistress GF experience which has a whole different kind of hell.
Wael has … changed a lot since I met her.
She’s kind of taken that saying “Give no quarter to the man who practices 1000 kicks once , but rather , fear the person who practices 1 kick a thousand times” …. and run with it.
‘Cuz if we’re being frank here , Mistress Wael has me beat hands down when it comes to the practical handling of a guy’s dick with regards to Tease & Denial. Her skills are , well, legendary.
Which is fine by me, milking the guy of his cream is an afterthought for me … I enjoy the confusion in the back of his mind as he contemplates how to leave his wife for me as my hand clumsily drains him of his fluids.
Wael … she loves watching the guys struggle against their restraints to do a half sit up and stare beggingly at their cocks and pleading to be allowed to finally orgasm.
And when they’re allowed to do so … the feeling is so cataclysmic that the next day they’re willing to go through all sorts of petty slave tasks to please the Mistress into allowing such an orgasm again the next night.
In other words, if my sessions are like leading you to chase a carrot that you firmly believe you can eat if just given an extra minute to get your mouth on it …..
Wael’s idea is to feed you the most delicious goddammed carrot in the world … and make you jump through hoops to get another serving the next night.
That means a day of fetching food for her , washing her in the shower , sniffing her laundry and washing it by hand , followed by an evening of being tied to the bed while she watches movies and plays with your cock …without a word spoken between the two of you.
That’s fine, there’s no end to the amount of guys who are willing to paint their mistress’s toenails , serve as her leak proof urinal , and endure a painful spontaneous half hour of face slapping … just because it pleases her to make you do all that for her.
She very much has followed the road of servitude , and has embraced knowing that her slaves will do any task laid before him … because there’s a guaranteed carrot waiting at the end of the night.
Wael asked me to write a caption for her latest Twitter photo , one that captured where she’s at as a Mistress … and when I later showed her what I had written …. she showed me a secret video she has on her phone … of her surprising her slave’s ass in Singapore , with her 5am dildo wake up call.
I had to watch it a couple of times to realize what had to be asked : “You made him sleep tied to the bed?”
“Yes of course. He came to soon without telling me.”
Interesting eh?
I try to make the guy sleep as close to me as he can without touching me … and she makes the guy sleep all tied up … ass proped up by pillows.
Certainly we’re different Wael and I , especially in how we approach the Mistress Girlfriend sessions.
But if you spend time with either of us, it’s hard not to get caught up in the idea that maybe , in a way, we’re actually one in the same.
That’s because any experience you’re apt to have is going to be a good , fun time … with an exciting end to things.
So be it she , or be it me … I think you’ll find that in the end what your life needs ….
Waiting for a femdom session worthy of a blog post is much like fly fishing where most of the time you’re casting your lure and nothin’ bites , nada, zilch. You guys would have more fun smelling your ball sack than doin’ what I do day in / day out , however ….
Once the line jerks though and the fish is on , oh it’s on like grey poupon … meaning shit’s about to get exciting.
Case in point, this story about Joey the Fish – not his real name but close enough for jazz , as it begins with a J and hey it rhymes as well – so figure it out.
The fish part is true enough though – named so by me for how he constantly waves his hand and says Comme ci Comme ça … “so-so” in French – except he gets the hand gesture all wrong , holding his hand vertical like a fish when he waves it instead of holding it parallel to the ground. It got to the point while walking around in France with him that I’d actually reach out and push his hand down because it annoyed me so much. He’d always ask why and I’d never tell him – it’s fun keeping guys in the dark , but after a while I started calling him Poison (totally fucking up the pronunciation of Poisson) and even though he eventually corrected me we just ran with Poison as he said it made him sound bad ass.
Fine. For our discussion it’s Joey the Fish … and for the record, he was as far from bad ass that one could get. For one, he’s old. Like, the kind of guy that makes me look up ancient scrolls to see who he is because he’s before YouTube time. Two, he ain’t the sharpest tool in the box. Ever go to a party and come across a dude who’s just taking up air in the room when he speaks? Well, that’s Fishy for ya.
Just like the last two interesting guys I’ve met , I happened across Fishy not in a session but while waiting outside the Louvre Museum in Paris where he literally bumped into my back with a beaten down blue backpack that he had strapped to his chest – the collision of which sent my coffee flying out of my hand. When I looked behind me with a serious case of “wtf’ written across my face I had to laugh. Here’s a 50+ year old dude who looks like he said fuck it and ditched the U-Haul back home in favour of not one but two backpacks to carry his lifelong collection of shit with him while rediscovering his 20 year old backpacker self. Not to mention he was wearing a ripped long sleeved runner’s shirt that was already two sizes too small for him and though it was nearly 9am at the time and rather chilly out he already had sweaty underarms. “So that’s how you say hello huh” was the first thing I said to him and instantly he replied back “well I’m not used to having a double D tit hanging in front of me, so there’s that.”
I instantly liked that he wasn’t doing the grovelling apology charade that any other guy would do and instead resorted to humour.
So we starting shooting the shit as we had several minutes to kill before the place opened , nothing special , just ice breaking chit chat and ya he’s fundamentally a nice guy so I let him talk cuz he was nervous and meanwhile I was getting ammo as he spoke.
I’d been walking around Paris alone for that weekend back in April so it was fun just to talk to somebody.
We shared this love of art so that morning at the museum went well enough and it ended up being that we spent the day walking around discovering stuff together. Which led to the next day , and then another and by Wednesday of that week he had invited me to his friends house for dinner – which I instantly thought was going to be a bad idea if I agreed – thinking the place would be full of 60 year old balding men and I’d be the not only the youngest person there but the only chick in the house. He assured me that wasn’t going to be the case and in fact he promised me there’d be more than a dozen hot young guys there.
“Hot European boys huh? Hanging out with their … dad perhaps?” my smart ass part of me replied.
“Not quite” he said, and then went on to explain that he’s the team doctor – for a low tier football club in Europe and it was a post season get together of staff and some players.
Fuck, for me that was like ringing the dinner bell at an Ethiopian dog kennel so naturally I bit and accepted Fishy’s invitation.
That night went down quite well , but it was just the entree needed to serve up the rest of the story so let’s not dwell on details of that evening ok. (A girl needs to preserve her reputation)
So anyways, that April trip ended and then out of the blue last week I get an email from Fishy , except it’s chalk full of Cc recipients – some of the names were of the boys I had met at that party. You know what the subject was? A pre-wedding party invitation , a chance for everybody on both sides of whomever was getting married to meet one another. Since I’d gotten back to Bangkok I hadn’t messaged Fishy whatsoever , I just figured it was like two boats passing one another in the night , no big deal. But I wanted to know why he’d suddenly include me and my email in that huge list …. because thinking I’d never see him again I gave him my Mistress email … the one you guys use.
I texted him and asked him straight away “why the fuck is my name on that email Cc list you sent out?”
His answer was immediate and honest “Oh because you said you were single and that you’d be coming back to Europe in the summer , and as it happens many of the guys attending the wedding party are single as well … and since they’re your age I thought apples + apples.”
When I read that I sank back into my sofa tying to disappear altogether like the popular Homer Simpson meme of him disappearing into the shrubbery. (totally looked that word up, we don’t have “shrubbery” here in bkk)
See, I’ve recently let go of the notion of getting married. I’ve matured out of that 20’s phase where it felt like it was something I was supposed to do. I don’t even keep boyfriends any longer , my name is Lone Wolf on my Steam profile and my Line for a reason … that’s how I’m going to live the rest of my life and I’m fine with it.
Knowing that, can you see the irony bomb that was building up in my brain?
A bunch of guys, some young , football players to boot .. and possibly well off were about to go all due diligence happy on my name and who I was because my email name has the word Mistress in it. No doubt they’d find my twitter and would piece together “oh damn, that smoking hot girl is a fucking Mistress? … and she’s coming to the party, oh Happy Days”
Which … gave me a perfect opportunity to pour water – not gasoline on the fire. And thus I replied … Cc’ing the entire group :
“Hey Fishy, pure class move, couldn’t be happier to be the female mare being invited to this collection of absolute broncos. A few things you should know about me though that may save you some time on the pre-wedding due dilligence.
I am definitely not #1 on the two column list of girl horses you have in the running for being put out to stud. I’d have to be loser drunk to dance so i’ll definitely be #1 in terms of people vying to be stone drunk with marinara sauce caked on the front of my dress.
The head shot I’m providing you with is probably more than 15 to 16 years old so expect a few more miles / pounds on the rig. What you might think is perfectly brown skin is really just the after effects of sucking in industrial weight pollution right from the gas pipe of Bangkok all my life.
While I don’t own my own apartment I did have one in my stable of my man bitches come to mount my two flat screen tv’s on the wall.
I heard Europeans love curved dildos, especially the ones that bend to the left like a zucchini so I’ll be throwin’ a few of those in my purse when I come next month.
Love you all, can’t wait to get it going at the wedding party. “
I woke up the next morning with 114 new emails waiting in my inbox. Peculiarly none were from Fishy , and most were of the ‘wtf was that’ variety or ‘haha that was great’ kind of response.
One though stood out from the others and I feel bad still that I first replied to him in a snarky way – which I’m ought to do when trying to get through such an avalanche of emails sitting in my inbox. He introduced himself as ‘Dead Head Luke’ in the email as that’s what his friends called him ever since being declared clinically dead at dinner on a Tuesday evening football players only dinner , being brought back to life in the ambulance, and then reporting to football practice the next morning with two electrical scars on his chest from the defibrillator they used on the way to the hospital.
There was a lot more in his email , but I chose only to reply to the Dead Lucas part of his story saying “Just think , if electrical shocks through your testicles would guarantee you’d come back to life, you could have seen me instead and saved yourself quite a bit of money.”
Bad time for a joke perhaps, but remember – when faced with 100 + emails I’ll always resort to saying something witty if it gets me out of the reply with only a single sentence typed.
The next day after the onslaught of emails coming in had cooled down there was Dead Luke’s email sitting on top of the others and it read “If you promise to leave my testicles alone and just go have a coffee with me in Bangkok , I won’t fret about the money I’ll spend on you.”
I kind of wanted to see him just to see the scars the defibrillator machine left on his chest … seriously the best war wound story I’ve heard since Tyrion Lannister lost his nose in the battle of Blackwater Bay.
So come the day of his arrival, exactly last Monday, he shows up wearing a Mickey Mouse t-shirt two sizes too small for him , a pair of Khaki’s two sizes too big for him , and a pair of $2 pinkish red flip flops.
“You look fucking awesome in that shirt” I said.
“I know!!” he replied emphatically and then with a double pistol point of his index finger aiming at his foot he let out a totally male like “check out these shoes too miss!”
Ah great I thought, I’ve been visited by a 2019 version of Ted Theodore Logan , sporting blonde whispy hair and a European accent. So I whipped out my air guitar and yelled out “Most excellent” … but sadly the reference flew miles over his head.
In the elevator up he smiled over at me and let out a “I loved your email.”
“Oh ya? What did you like about it?”
“Never heard an Asian girl say the word ‘rig’ before.”
“Maybe you’ve never dated a trucker girl before” I said while giving my chest a double pistol fingered shot of my own. He laughed , and so the evening began.
Then on the short walk to my condo he inquired about how my name came to be on the list of Cc’d people in the email and I told him about how I met Fishy outside the art gallery and wouldn’t you know it – he expressed an immediate passion for art and painting as well.
Now it happens from time to time that guys – especially those working in sales of some sort – will employ a technique called mirroring , where they’ll not only feign interest in things I like but they’ll copy everything about me , right down to the way I walk. I’ve gotten around this problem by sticking my finger up my ass in the elevator – as that’s usually when I first catch wind of what they’re doing.
So Luca (without an S apparently) I thought might be trying the same thing I thought but given that his trade was football and was still a bit young I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Lucky for me, he was genuine for not only did we spend the first few minutes talking about painting but he came right out of the blue with this … “do you have any brushes and paint here now, we could paint something.”
For better or worse , that line changed the immediate course of my life’s direction. Allow me please to explain.
I’m not a connoisseur of art by any means but I’ve always been able to express myself – albeit clumsily – through painting. I’m not gonna bore you with details but let’s just say that it was once a great outlet for me back in the days where I felt I didn’t fit in anywhere. But the last time I actually put brush to canvas was in University , and I’m not talking about my time oversees either, I’m talking domestic University so in other words – back when I was barely stepping into my 20’s.
So I was kinda shocked at my answer to his question as it triggered a memory in my mind that had been dormant for so very long … the location of my brush and paint set which was somewhere in a bag in my condo … one that I had left unopened from the recent move up into this cursed flat.
“Yes” I stuttered , searching for time as the cobwebs of that memory cell were dusted off , “yes I do in fact.”
To him it must have looked like a cartoon from his childhood days as I was in my bedroom tossing unopened bags of crap onto my bed looking for the relic of time that was my painting set.
When I found it I had this ‘eureka’ moment , one of childhood joy that I accidentally let out with a bunny hop on my bed and a smile written wide across my face … until it instantly fled out the window as my eyes met his over at the doorway.
“I’m a mistress, I’m not allowed to have fun” was the god awful feeling that had replaced the one which had fled.
“It’s ok” he said as he caught on I was fighting a mighty battle to contain my emotions suddenly, “you can paint me if you like, I don’t mind.”
“on you” I replied.
“meaning?’ the question made him also roll his eyes seeking clarity.
“I want to paint on your body” and then after a moment of thinking where “your feet … do you think you can go an hour not moving your feet even if it tickles?”
“Now that’s kinky” he smiled.
And so it began … my most fun session ever. Or perhaps … my only fun session ever.
Assignment: 2 hours to paint, working with a limited palette , the goal : express the first thought that comes into your mind.
I call it : Hope , Abandoned – The name, a homage to an RPG game I once played. The meaning, quite real though. pic.twitter.com/bZO56LNMvw
I honestly can’t recall the last time I had a session with so much laughing as it was near impossible for him to resist curling his feet and messing up my first few brush strokes and I’d playfully slap him or flick paint on his Mickey Mouse shirt as punishment.
I ended up gagging him. I made him hold cold ice cubes in his hands to distract him from the tickling. I had him sing out loud. All to no avail.
An hour later he and I were a mess of paint and it was pleasantly historical.
Then, well … if you’ve been lucky enough to see the first episode of this season’s Black Mirror called Fighting Vipers … there’s this scene where the video game fighters collapse to the ground and suddenly make out. It won’t make sense to you if you haven’t seen it but the paint flicking escalated like that , like a kid’s food fight in a Spaghetti factory – except to say it had the romanticism of the clay making scene from the movie Ghost.
However, my intention here is not to explain in great detail just how erotic stroking a guy’s dick with wet gooey paint can be , I’ll let your imagination run wild on it’s own.
Rather, I want to let you know that I’m done with not having fun in my life.
I don’t want to cannibalise the premise for the first chapter of my book (ya that one, the one I’ve been working on for a year, shut up already) but I will steal this thought about what I have already written from my novel.
In my first ever session as a noob Mistress – in – training , I was this clueless girl who was just dumbfounded at how this first customer I had ever met had been left under my care in Jaa’s bedroom as she walked around cleaning the house in a huff of very apparent anger and resentment. I had been working very briefly in the insurance business so I knew at least a little bit about things like customer care, being service minded , and so on. But I couldn’t for the life of me wrap my head around how rudely she was treating this guy and how unfair it was to dump him in my hands for two whole hours.
I go into greater detail in that chapter of how that day played out.
But I’ll say this about her “I don’t give a fuck anymore” attitude …. I get it now. I totally get it. Luckily I’m not there yet but I’m on the road which has insanity listed as it’s end destination and things need to be done to alter course before it’s too late.
For instance, I haven’t written for fun in ages and ages. For better or worse, I made the decision two years ago to keep my blog “session related only” – after an ex boyfriend stalker violated the privacy of my life , something which he should be in prison for if it had occurred on his turf and not here.
Thing is , it’s not fun keeping all these thoughts of mine – some quite silly , some perhaps interesting , all quelled up inside of me. Having to instead write sexy story after sexy story took the fun out of writing for you guys and it’s probably why my stories come bi weekly at best instead of how I used to write every day almost.
It’s a pain in the ass having to wade through normal tease & denial sessions for weeks on end until something worthy of putting pen to paper happens. All these thoughts I have get lost in time and that is what I really enjoyed writing about.
Like yesterday, I had jotted down these notes on my phone about how I had this strange fantasy that I could use subliminal thoughts that I had read about in studying hypnosis … to make a guy on the skytrain suddenly jump off his chair and grovel at my feet licking them in front of everybody. The seeds of that fantasy having been planted years ago when I met an actual hypnotist for dinner, an older guy named Mike. I think I even wrote about that one time before didn’t I?
Writing about those kinds of silly things though led you guys to know more about me and the things that happened through my mind day in and day out , and it was infinitely more enjoyable than what I’ve been doing lately.
I want to go back to writing stuff like that.
One reason is , it makes for sessions that are more relaxed as you guys know a heck of a lot more about me , it’s like you’re coming to see a pen pal that you’ve been in talks with for years and years. Those sessions I enjoy because I enjoy meeting people.
What I don’t like is people coming to see me because I’m their bdsm dream Mistress and they want to see how many of their fetishes they can cram into their 120 minute session. All inspired by me and my sexy writing which has been aimed at their cock brain rather than their real brain.
So ya, i need to make being a mistress more fun for me.
I need to follow up on things I used to like doing , like painting. As you saw on my Twitter I followed up on that foot painting session by signing up for a painter’s workshop course which , last Saturday, was the most fun I’ve had all year. Some of you even liked my painting though I thought it was utter garbage. But I loved the discourse we had going in emails and Twitter replies.
Thing is , I know that when I write a story that doesn’t keep a guy’s dick hard for 20 minutes that he’s likely to move on an not book a session.
To which I say , fuck it.
I’d rather have an infrequent one hour session with someone I really enjoy talking to than many many two hour sessions with people I can’t tolerate.
Again, just so you can perhaps walk a mile in my shoes … my last three guys who showed up at my door …
Guy #1 … had breath so smelly that it made me want to hold my vomit down for the entire two hours. Next guy who shows up uncleanly is immediately getting sent home. I’m done with guys who don’t have the wherewithal to maintain their hygiene – especially when visiting me in my condo.
Guy #2 … Said his name was Mark from the UK. I went down , saw somebody who didn’t at all look like Mark from the UK waiting to see me and I promptly did a 180 turn back up to my condo.
Guy #3 … Specifically said in his email that he was interested in “Tease & Denial” but had a hidden agenda … a list of a hundred things he had planned for us to try out that night. His session lasted 4 minutes.
With my birthday around the corner there’s a couple of priority items I truly need , so in lieu of chocolates , flowers and the like , can three of you guys instead work on bringing me
a) plastic chastity
b) power vibrator
c) spanking crop . or whip
On top of that , he wrote me today that he was “turned on” by being rejected by a mistress ….
npanda
Sun, Jun 9, 9:51 AM (21 hours ago)
to me
Hello,
That was quite a surreal session last night. I really enjoyed it.
Being rejected by a domina – I thought my fantasies were somewhat extreme (although in an aesthetically limited way), but I could always look a domina straight in the eyes. In retrospect, I felt embarrassed and intimidated to do so yesterday. Too bad we haven’t explored this, since that was exactly the feeling I was looking for. I got a nice sample of it, though. Thank you.
I’m not leaving untill 9pm. If you’d like to have a follow-up session again today, please let me know. Oh, and I would pay this time.
… you daft fuck. You ignorant pathetic piece of shit of a human being.
This is what I mean. This is what drove Jaa to retire. Fucking retards like this.
Consider ok , he’s visiting me in my condo and I’m being considerate enough to entertain somebody that I’m hoping will be polite and cordial like a normal man would be when visiting an extremely hot girl for a first date.
Except my writing hasn’t inspired normal people to come and visit me like it used to when I wrote more personal stuff. Instead I get fucking freaks of humanity like this loser who show up wanting to challenge me , and then go home and beat their cock endlessly fantasising about how a Mistress rejected him. What a fucking insolent prick.
Whatever happened to Chivalry?
Code, honor, ethics.
So going forward let’s clarify these changes I’m putting into motion shall we?
If you show up and your breath smells, or there’s anything about you for that matter that doesn’t sing the song of a man showing up at a girl’s apartment for a first date … don’t even bother showing up in the first place because I won’t give you the time of day.
Hear this as well , if you’re not from the country you say you’re from , you’re not getting past the condo lobby.
If you’re not submissive , fuck off. Took a while to sink in, but I get it now why guys who “top from the bottom” or are “switches” piss other Mistresses off. My personality is dominant, and I have zero tolerance for guys who know we’d clash but want to write me anyways because I interest them.
On my end , I’m going to be going the way Mistress Wael went and will introduce one hour beginner sessions for guys interested in Tease & Denial but are a little scared of the “way out there” bdsm fetish stories that are catalogued in my blog. I miss the “sweet & innocent” type of guy who’s looking for something better in his life than the shitty thirty second happy ending he’s been getting at massage places around the city.
There’s two totally different kinds of sessions available for the guy who wants a much toned down and safe introduction to Female Domination , mine and Wael’s , and the differences between us need to be written about more because both of us have our own distinct ways of driving men crazy with orgasms they’ve never experienced before.
Wael is so unbelievably gifted with her hands , she has techniques that make guys scream in delight … whereas with me – what’s happening with your dick is more of an afterthought as I have an uncanny ability to get inside your mind and heart.
Both are great sessions , both are entirely different than one another.
So not only am I going to be writing more often , like once per day , but I’m going to force Mistress Wael to be writing and making her find her style. It’s been 5 years, she has enough English savvy to find a successful way to get her thoughts across she just needs me to be more demanding about meeting writing deadlines. Which means the blog is definitely going to have two very different levels when it comes to the usage of English going forward but though it may be a bit confusing I think over time people will fall in love with both writing styles even if hers is a bit more basic than mine. What’s important is to be genuine, and she’s certainly that.
From time to time, I need to take time off from accepting any sessions.
Now for the better part of July and the first week of August that’s not going to be a problem as I have surgery coming up later this month that will put me out of action for a few weeks, and immediately following that I have my next European trip coming up next month.
During my time off I’m going to just sit and write some days. I’d love to finish the book I’m working on and I’d like it to be something I love writing for so I’m going to veer away from making it the sexy novel it has been until now. There’s been some really weird and funny experiences working as a Mistress over the years and I want to get those thoughts onto paper.
In the end … I want to have fun again.
I’d like to be able to share my photos with you in my stories even if they’re just grungy me doing whatever types of photos … but that would have to be behind a member’s only blog – not as a money grab – but as a way to dissuade creepy people from fixating on me. I’m not technically proficient enough to instantly know how to go about implementing such a section but i’m sure it’s possible. Anyways it’s something I’ll be looking into getting set up by the fall perhaps.
I’m changing my forms over to Gravity forms from FormCrafts. I have to get to get those made up and replace the old forms in each and every story with these new ones so that’ll be a chore and a half.
… and finally , I’m going to be putting up a page where you can order my books , videos and private blog membership. Again, might have to pay somebody to do it as I only am good at writing , but there’s been enough questions about it from readers that it warrants attention.
My hope is , ultimately, that those of you guys who end up booking sessions with me are doing so more because you consider yourself a nice person and are genuinely interested in meeting “me.” The onus of responsibility is thus upon me to let you know in my stories “who I am” and what this crazy girl is thinking day to day.
Because after all , “let’s meet up over coffee” or “can you teach me about Tease & Denial” is infinitely nicer to read than “hey can you bend me over a barrel and fuck my ass for 2 hours and THEN castrate my cock off?”
Two of those session requests will keep me working as a mistress for quite a while longer.
The other , if I continue to see it enough , will ensure one of my next trips to Europe is a one way ticket only.
Except, fast forward to November and this person shows up for his last session before I’m to fly to France , only this time he’s perfectly content with letting me watch The Revenent on Netflix while he buries his face between my legs to smell my dank post-workout pussy and all the wonderful fish aroma that comes with it. For you that might be exciting, but for him it’s such a downgrade from the activity he asks for in his sessions. He was so perfectly still for the entire first hour of the movie I had begun to feel I should tease his dick until the film had ended but he refused to let me touch it.
