Femdom Blog


Gooooooooooooooooooood BYE Vietnam       errr,   Bangcunt.


That’s right I’m outta here, I’m history, I got the lucky ticket out of home baby.

Rollin’ Rollin’ Rollin’ , keep dem’ slaveboys moanin’ , Rawhideeee.

Ya that’s right, it’s the final Mistress blog story before my big trip to Europe in a few hours , and this blog post is brought to you by our friends at the White House … the people who brought you The Wall , and no not Pink Floyd’s version.

That’s right , Mr. Toupee himself.  Remember, if it’s being done right here or abroad it’s probably not being done by Mr. Trump.


“I heard that.”

Oh you’re here Mr. Toupee, good to see ya.

“I’m here to make sure you don’t say anything controversial.”


Ah, speaking of controversial, is it true there’s a slave problem in BDSM ?

“No it’s not a problem , every mistress has one.”


Oh look at these slippers one of you boys bought me , that’s beautiful, thank you.

“Yes they’re Ruby slippers Mistress, just put them on , click your heels together and say “there’s no way I’m going back home, there’s no way I’m going back home.”


Ah thank you guys, now I can stay abroad forever , so thoughtful of you all.



Yes, Italy.  My 24th country in 5 years , it tickles me pink that I’ll be eating nothing but Fettucine Alfredo and holding up the Leaning Tower of Pizza (lol) for the next 20 days.

So the #1 question being smeared all over my inbox by those who know me … “are ya coming back?”

I don’t know.  Maybe.  Perhaps.  I suppose they’d deport me eventually if I stayed.  Unless I get married while over there this time.  I figure I can wrestle the odds in my favour of that happening if I lay ass up naked in an Italian nudist colony for the next 20 days.

Alas, I don’t have time for that.  Got too many guys I have to lead around by a string on their dick whilst I’m there.


Ok so , apologies for lying to y’all.

I said last post that I’d be writing every day and ya … that didn’t happen.  I don’t write when I’m depressed.  Period.

In a nutshell though  … living here had me feeling like I was being force fed broccoli and if that wasn’t bad enough I had a death in the family compounding the engulfing dreariness.

One thing’s for certain.   This lifestyle has a shelf life.

To those with a keen eye, opportunity gleams like a dagger’s point , and thus for me, Europe is the land of such opportunity.   Or anywhere abroad for that matter.

Unless I can find some purpose for living where I was mistakenly born , I might … depending on the demand of course … consider being a full time travelling mistress … since I love to see other places so much.



A lot of that depends on how nicely Mistress Wael settles into running things for the next three weeks.

Behind the scenes, I haven’t been mincing my words with her this last month.  I’ve told her in no uncertain terms, “find your fucking voice and let people know how amazing you are.”

I’ve told her that this time I’m not doing email while I’m gone.  It’s all on her shoulders.

I’ve written only two stories to be posted by her on both Sunday’s that I’m away , and the onus is on her to shed her fear of writing and share her personality.

“I’m more visual” she says.  Fine, I’ve spent two to three hours a day for the past month teaching her Photoshop, teaching her how to edit video , and even bought her a typing game to get her words per minute up.

Whatever her visual style of posting is going to be , you’re gonna see it starting tomorrow.  Be nice to her, remember – I’ve had the luxury of being immersed in English since age 9 , she’s just beginning year six.


Well that’s it boys.  I’m outta here.

My return ticket is the 19th of August but I’ve found that jetlag hits me like the Sta Puft Marshmallow man , I feel funky for a couple of days once I’m back in the land of smog , so realistically my first session back won’t be until around the 21st or 22nd.