Dave just left my condo from our first date. He thought it was a date, in reality it was just an experiment of mine. Lately, these “mistress’s boyfriend for a day” sessions have been so amazing that I’ve started to wonder if the crazy suggestive techniques I use on my submissive harem of men would work equally well on a stranger who has no idea that I’m a Mistress – one talented in the art of Seduction. So I thought it would be interesting for you guys to peek into my mind and relive with me what just went down over the past five hours on my “date.” It’ll give you a glimpse I suppose at how my mind works, some of the techniques I use, and that will either amaze you or bore you to death. Dunno which, but it’s worth a shot so here goes.
First, i’m going to let you in on a little secret.
Actually, no I’m not. I can’t. Though I really want to, doing so would undermine my business success.
Because the truth of the matter is that it’s not a little secret at all, it’s a compilation of a great many secrets.
No it’s not that I have a cock hanging between my legs, you can strike that from your filthy little minds right now. Besides, having a dick between my legs couldn’t properly be classified as being a secret, rather a better word for something like that would be“catastrophic game changer”. Or perhaps “fuck it I’m out of here.”
So how does one go about writing about this little bit of information that I have which is compelling me to sit down and write but yet I can’t divulge what that golden nugget of information is?
Well let’s start with what I can tell you.
Luring you into becoming my submissive boyfriend apparently is quite dangerous. Dangerous for you that is. Like, criminally dangerous.
What I can do with you in 2 hours is absolutely nothing compared to what I can do with you in 2 or 3 days. in fact, I’m finding that there is almost no limit to what I can make you do for me or feel for me given sufficient time. The devilishness of the whole thing though, the reason that I’m sitting down to write this, is that it blows my mind right to this very second just how much you guys keep asking for more even though you know just how very dangerous your emotions are to being overheated. you’re at the point where you’ve lost total control of your emotions of your behavior and of your own free will- yet you love it.
Like I had an idea this was possible for the last 5 or 6 years while I was limiting mostly my sessions to 2 hour intervals. but it’s just lately now that I’ve started entertaining this idea of going further and exploring just how much the mistress boyfriend relationship can open doors to a new world and a new way of thinking or new possibilities that I never knew existed before. honestly it’s gotten to the point now where two hour sessions , well … they feel limit capped you know what I mean? If you know you can go to a horse race and you can easily select the winning ticket that will net you a million dollars why on Earth would you ever be happy with winning a hundred bucks? That’s my problem right now, the thing that’s just running through my mind as I sit here giggly excited about what I just finished doing to the guy who walked out of my condo. A guy I just met!
This is exactly what the mistress who preceded me did. After five years she started to venture away from two hour sessions and instead begin exploring the possibilities of a deeper commitment between her and the slave. It led her to retire. And why is that? Well most women think that men are all alpha males. But once you walk a mile in a mistress’s shoes you realize that’s just not true.
The truth of the matter is that well over 80% of the male population hungers for a submissive relationship where they can secretly get down on their knees and devote themselves to a mistress who fully and unequivocally understands exactly what his innermost desires are. I am indeed beyond a shadow of a doubt one of those woman who fully understands what a man is thinking and what a man desires. so much so that it’s funny.
Well no, not funny like that. But funny in that a few psychological techniques when used on a non alpha-male … of which there are many … can influence a guy to do a great many strange and wonderful things he never thought he’d do.
Proof. You’re going to need at least an ounce of proof right?
So here goes… let’s talk about Dave … Dave the slave, the guy who just walked out of my condo a few minutes ago. He had an interesting first date with me, to say the least.
No, there’s no strap on ass fucking description down below at the end of this story, so this isn’t going to a super pornographic snapshot of one of my sessions. Sorry to disappoint. You might however find out how I manipulate you to carry out acts of submission and subtle humiliation. If that interests you, read on 🙂
So let me recount our evening together, but keep in mind that I just met him face to face for the first time at 7pm this evening. It was ten past midnight when I typed in the first word up above. Five hours.
Hmm, how to start? I’ll tell you step by step what happened via dialogue and let you figure things out on your own-assuming you’re good at reading between the lines.
Dave is a peculiar experiment because he is the first person that I made do slave like things … but one who did not come to my door by means of my website. Experience has taught me that you guys are not only freaky smart but are also an investigative lot so I’m not going to tell you from where Dave and I met but let’s just all agree that it was by non-conventional means. You see, these techniques I’ve been using make it all too easy to change the willpower of a man who shows up at my door after reading my blog. I wanted instead to try these techniques on somebody with a clean slate of mind. Basically I was looking for a guy who was really keen to take a super hot girl out on a date and see how far he could push his luck. Before you think that Dave was the first lucky guy that I stumbled upon you should know that there was a selection process in place where I had to painstakingly whittle away at a group of prospective men until I got to a solid handful of the types of males I was looking for. Dave ticked off all the check marks I was looking for so that’s how he got chosen.
I took him to Above Eleven, my favorite hang out joint in the city, yards from my condo – the place is like my home turf and it adds to my confidence looking at each table in the place and remembering who I seduced at each location around the restaurant. After some cagey dialogue … is that the right word for it – cagey? … We were discussing how Thai girls all have a “Sick Water Buffalo ” story to tell , but making fun of the topic like we had been doing via SMS beforehand … it was like a battle of wits , or who could be the most witty about the topic. Fine, let him have his fun. Peacocks think they’re witty and fierce as well … until the wolf attacks.
“So” he said taking the enveloped bill from the waitress and throwing me a sexy “read between the lines” sort of smile, (here it comes I said to myself) “is your place nearby? My hotel is just down the way…”
“You’re not going to fuck me. Do you know how I know that?”
“I wasn’t intendi…”
“Because, Dave, I would have invited you to check out my room about 1/2 hour ago if I wanted to use your cock.” and I said that to him with a stone cold matter-of-fact look across my face.
Faced with a cannonball shot solidly through the stern of the ship, the male contemplates retreat.
“Well you’re direct” he spits out sarcastically.
“Did you?” (Notice the past tense of the question.)
“Did I what?”
“Did you want to fuck me? yes or no , and consider , knowing that I’m direct , that I’d respect a direct answer in return.”
He looked fabergasted and snorted out a laugh, yes snorted , that sound that emits half from your mouth and half through your nose , and one that you instantly regret making because of how piggish it sounds. “Well, that’s , really , uhm, I’ve never met a girl w….”
“Yes or No” I said choosing to suck the whipped cream off my finger from the unfinished desert before us.
“Yes or No?”
They say there’s give and take in every relationship. It’s true. I give you my ass to kiss … and I take your money for the pleasure of doing so. #femdom , #assworship , #sexy , #mistress , #bdsm pic.twitter.com/Gk6KyrTxJm
— ThaiGoddessJaa (@FemDom_Khaleesa) March 18, 2018
A hesitation. A pause. The obvious answer is coming, he just needs a pause to let it seem like it’s not an immediate selfish answer. “Yes” , another pause, “yes of course. You’re beyond hot (see photo above :P). Who wouldn’t? I would have. Obvious right? Does that make you laugh? Do you want to laugh? Are you just digging for a reaction?” (he’s right , I was digging for a reaction, and he gave it to me when he said “would have”)
“Just answer the door for me. You know you’ll do that right?” I said as I reached out to touch his knee firmly .. firm enough that he’d look down to see why I grabbed him. It’s called a misdirection, you’ll understand later on, what I said is the more important thing to focus on.
“Huh?” he stuttered with a blank face.
“You do want a second date, yes?”
“Yes” he laughed. Blinking being the only movement on an otherwise confused and motionless face.
“You’re absolutely sure, given how direct I am?” Another “yes” from his side of the table.
“And you did think before you wanted to fuck me right?”
“Yes” he smiled. “I mean no.” he follwed up, checking himself with a smack on his own knee. “Fuck you’re confusing me.”
“Like I said, it’s not going to happen so don’t worry yourself about it. Just pay the bill and leave the waiter 1 baht for a tip , make sure he sees the tip before you leave the table, I’ll be downstairs waiting.” I winked at him in an ever so sexy way after I told him what to do, leaving him with a feeling of excitement even after giving him a somewhat humiliating task.
Humiliation is such a powerful tool, but even more powerful is the ability to make somebody do something small for you like it’s nothing at all. Ah see, I told you I wouldn’t divulge any of my tricks, but there’s another one. Have you caught them all yet, or are you just reading along blankly? lol
Guys ask me all the time to humiliate them in public. Now in their mind, they have pictures of being ridden like a horse up and down the street covered in green paint with a firecracker dildo firing sparks out of their asshole.
What it is really, talking about humiliation, is a gateway to submissiveness.
I’m asking a man I hadn’t yet met two hours before to now leave a humiliatingly small tip of what would be in your currency one penny, or one pence. Furthermore, I’ve instructed him to make sure the waiter sees the 1 penny tip, something that’s not altogether pleasant to do. It just serves as a distraction really to divert his attention from the bigger submissive act of picking up the bill for me. Which yes, might be something he had intended to do, but my addressing it as an order to him along with the tip suggestion ensures that by the time he’s joined me downstairs that he’s begun his unconscious dive into the rabbit hole of submission.
And what about that – meeting him downstairs. Above Eleven is a rooftop patio bar/restaurant and meeting me on the first floor is not an insignificant thing to have to do. I’d say that out of the 500 or so couples that ate there that evening, we were the only couple to go down the lift seperately.
First and foremost, I’m setting precident. I lead, he follows.
Secondly, I want to see if he questions it at all. Let’s admit it, though it’s a small thing to make him do, it’s still quite rude would you agree? We’re creatures of obedience though, subliminally going along with things people tell us to do. The Milgram experiment is infinitely repeatable if one can assume a presence of authority. Now consider that you guys willingly place the mistress on a pedestal, and that I’m using that power not to execute you with electricity but only to get you to do seemingly trivial things – what do you suppose the per cent of compliance is among you men? Hmmm? See why I wanted a guy who wasn’t aware I am a mistress?
Sure enough, Dave walked out of the elevator to greet me in the foyer with nothing but a sheepish grin. I grinned back. “Did the waiter say anything?” I laughed. “No, but he wasn’t too impressed” he laughed back.
Once I make somebody do a small inconsequential thing for me, it’s ever so easy to make them do something much larger for me later on.
The walk from Above Eleven to my condo is barely a minute, and yet, though I’ve made that short simple walk with hundreds of guys the vast majority are short of breath by the time we hit the lobby of my condominium. I’ve said it many times before in previous stories that I walk briskly and men struggle to keep up with my pace. Well, struggle is a bit over the top , let’s say – men are very aware of the pace they need to maintain to keep up with me at all times when walking with me.
I lead, you follow.
Just this time it’s reinforced by something as simple as walking.
These core months of the hot season leave visitors dripping in sweat trying to keep up with me, and granted it was late evening about 10pm when we reached my condo so it was only 35C , but for most of you guys that’s about a 70C swing in temperature and leaves you in a bit of a mess by the time you’re standing in my living room waiting for me to mercifully turn on the air conditioning. I’m Thai, I don’t sweat. It’s beyond fucking annoying when I have a foot worship guy who wants to smell and lick my “sweaty” feet and I have to basically run a marathon at noon to try and get a bead of sweat to run down my ankle so my feet will be smelly enough for him. But for appearances, it’s a subtle form of humiliation to have guys entering my condo stand in a sweat stained shirt with arms tightly glued to their side so I don’t notice the pool of sweat growing from their armpits.
Meanwhile I’m fresh as a peach standing before you – ordering you to the bathroom to clean yourself up in the shower.
“You’re a mess, go grab a shower and don’t come out until you’re presentable” I said to Dave laughing at him as he ran off to the guest bathroom.
The suavest of men frequently drop the line “I’m just gonna hop in the shower” as their ice breaker line – especially the male model types. Much like Tom Cruise did in Top Gun , it’s a power move, and one that needs to be stolen from them. There’s a difference between taking a shower … and being sent to the showers.
Also, clothes give a man power. I would argue that a woman in a business suit can’t compare power wise to a man in a suit – a suit connotes power. What we wear in general connotes who we are, and men tend to come to see me very well dressed. So removing them of their clothes is a simple tactic I use to strip them of a layer of their power.
Think about this, how many naked girls have you had stand in your living room in your life? 10? 50? Did I hear a couple of you playboys just yell out 100?
Me? 2,000, ya about that. Guys not girls … you wish I had 2000 naked girls stand in my living room … you’d all want to be roommates with me.
Guess how many guys have walked out of my shower in nothing but a towel with raging hard dicks at full mast? Zero. Nada. None.
There are few if any social situations that have a man standing naked covered in only a towel before a fully dressed girl. Even if a guy has been in that situation before a couple or more times, it doesn’t compare to the thousands of times I’ve commanded guys to stand in that position before me. If not humiliating or emasculating, then it certainly is awkward. Sometimes it’s all three. Whatever the case, it’s another layer of power transference from the male to me.
Now David, give him credit, chose the route the sort of states “hey do you want to see this impressive thing I have hiding under this towel?” Not thinking that a cock to me is like a pussy to a gynecologist. There’s the very rare dude like Dave who – and though I’ve never seen it with my own eyes, I’m sure it’s how they do it – they masturbate in the bathroom before coming out so their cock is aroused. I know cuz they all turn the sink on for a prolonged period of time to hide the “fap fap fapping” sound as they pound their wet dick to attention.
“If you want to show it off so much drop the towel.”
… Mistress Wael … pic.twitter.com/o74OOg9jt7
— ThaiGoddessJaa (@FemDom_Khaleesa) December 30, 2017
See, pause for a sec … at this moment in 99% of all these situations the guy standing in a towel in my living room is there because he thinks it’s expected of him as this slave / mistress situation is being played out as previously agreed upon through countless emails. Dave on the other hand chose to strut out of my bathroom without dressing himself back up in private, so there was a lot of assumption going on in his mind still with regards to getting laid.
Never underestimate the male’s desire to fuck. That’s one thing I’ve taught myself repeatedly. Like I said, I had done some pretty crafty work beforehand making sure that the guy I chose for the date was secretly submissive, or at least was the type that could be coerced into submissiveness. So it was kind of a curious thing to see a guy I saw as submissive choosing to walk out in my brown towel.
“You want me to drop my towel, are you sure?” he said.
“Well you purposely chose not to get dressed so that’s obviously your end game.”
“I’ll get dressed then if you want.”
“No. Drop the towel” I said with a tone that sat somewhere between curiousness and a command. And voila! Dude dropped my towel like Dorothy pulling back the curtain to reveal the Wizard of Oz.
The worst thing for a magician performing before a sold out audience is to make the big reveal for his ultimate trick “Taaaa Daaaaa” … and have people stare blankly and unimpressed. Dave, just as the many before him, got quickly introduced to how narrow the chasm is when making the leap from cockiness to full vulnerability. Nothing is more vulnerable than nakedness while in the presence of somebody fully clothed … and who has no intentions of removing any garments whatsoever.
Have you seen the Black Mirror episode Hang the DJ? I saw it on my Netflix, it’s one of my favorite episodes. There’s a great quasi-bdsm scene in it where the girl emasculates the guy by ordering him to strip naked. Too bad the premise of the show doesn’t allow them to explore the situation further, I for one could build an entire episode on the mind-fuckery that can go on with such a command :
Herein lays my problem lately. When presented with a situation where I could jump a cute guy and fuck his brains out … or fuck with his mind instead , I’ll always choose to exercise my imagination instead. There was absolutely no difference between the scene which played out above and the scene which unfolded in my living room with Dave. She chose to jump him, and if I chose to go down the road of writing about why that episode grips me so vividly, so starkly, I’d be writing for days on end to explain the labyrinth of thought processes going on in my head these days. For those of you intrigued by how deeply this episode affects me I invite you to watch it and send me an email with your theories on why it does so.
But for now, let’s just say that the “rules of the game” and my thorough understanding of those “rules” as they apply regionally here in Bangkok force me to exercise intelligence over desire.
Dave, well I had him on my short list because he was fucking hot and my cruel imagination often toys with me by forcing me to play these games with men I so very much desire to taste. So having a handsome boy naked in my living room does present a certain set of challenges to temptation. Sad for me that I never give into those temptations, but it’s because I don’t that I have such a deep understanding of men. Any of that make sense? I’m trying not to be cryptic, it just takes forever to focus on one small thought line and get across what I’m trying to say, but there’s a lightning storm of synapses firing off , and I’d love it if just one of you understood the how and the why of all those thoughts.
So yes, there was this fleeting synaptic thought that shot through my mind about how nice it would be to fuck this boy’s brains out and cum all over his thighs, but an instant later I snapped back into my purposeful self and on the flip side of a second I saw him as nothing more than a lab rat for my experiment.
We had had nothing but drinks at Above Eleven, earlier that afternoon I had a vigorous workout at the gym, and before that I had fallen asleep after a night of answering emails so I couldn’t properly remember the last time I had eaten food. Suddenly, while sitting before this naked guy, it was just as if my brains ran quite gently out of my head and left me with a vacuum, which made it impossible to concentrate on his pole of excitement and think of something worthy to say. Right there and then I took a few moments to flip through my Food Panda app and ordered a crab dinner from just down the street.
“You’re gonna sit there like that and watch me eat crab.”
“You’re that hungry huh?” he said with a tone of disillusionment in his voice, perhaps he was registering how lost his hopes were of getting pussy that night.
“Yup. Oh and , you’re gonna answer the door like that to pay the delivery guy.” (where have you heard me say that before)
“I am?” he asked rhetorically.
“I see it on the porno sites you guys watch all the time … girls answering the door naked to disturb the pizza delivery guy. So instead, you’re gonna disturb whomever knocks on that door.”
“You’re insane you know that?” he said while looking down behind him for my brown towel.
“Don’t. I like you naked. You lost your hard on though, sad no?”
“I think he’s just massively confused to be honest.”
“You confused yourself. I told you quite frankly at the restaurant you have zero chance of getting into my pussy.”
“Can I get dressed now?”
“If you’re going home, yes of course. Otherwise, no.”
In poker that’s calling someone’s bluff. With a Mistress it’s called shit or get off the pot. Go home if you wish, I’ve announced I’m totally disinterested in him and giving Dave the option to leave reinforces that. But if he stays, he must do so naked, and that choice reinforces the submissive circumstance I’ve put him in. Or that he’s put himself in, whatever. I use this technique on guys wavering on whether or not to throw themselves into being submissive near the start of the session. Dave will choose to stay just as most guys have done in the past, and he’ll remain naked because … remember … we are conditioned since birth to being told what to do. I have a lot of respect for guys who have said “fuck this I’m outta here” when I’ve put them in similar spots, they have the wonderful ability to think for themselves at crucial moments, a skill set that is rare to find.
Alright, so the delivery guy takes about 30 minutes to knock on my door, that’s a lot of time to fill in what is becoming an increasingly unusual situation for Dave.
This is why I love testing myself with these social situations because it keeps me on my toes. If this was a session and he was in my condo, well there’s this expectancy of what role to play out , and there’s an implicit shared thought that I’m going to lead by action. Something that I have tried to experiment with in my two hour sessions – but with less than optimal results as this “value / time” relationship exists – mostly in my mind I think. That’s why I’m really moving toward the mistress/boyfriend relationship experience which can be an afternoon or a couple of days, it frees me from the tick tick tick of the seconds rolling by. The amount of mind-fuckery I can do on you is directly proportional to the amount of time we can spend together.
Given the absence of my concern for time, I’m free to do whatever I choose and so with Dave – because he’s unaware I’m a Mistress, I wanted to introduce that uncomfortable silence that makes new couples feel on edge.
I’m just adding layers to the lasagna, and the last thing he wants while sitting there naked in front of me fully clothed is to have nothing but the silence of the condo consume the situation.
Meanwhile, I’m perfectly happy to fuck around with my phone and keep a surly scowl on my face supposedly due to the hunger situation.
You can only run half way into a forest, at the mid way point you begin running out. I could almost hear his brain thinking out loud as the inevitability of the delivery guys’ arrival approached.
When I heard the “ding dong” of the doorbell I admit I laughed. I shouldn’t have. Would have been better if I told him to go do his duty straight faced. But maybe that added a dash more humiliation to the whole thing with him knowing I found this amusing. I guess there’s both ways to play it. The funny thing is , and I totally wasn’t expecting it, was that I think the problems with paying a delivery boy naked were much less than the problems of sitting there naked without me talking to him. To get up and grab his wallet was something he did almost out of relief.
Which goes a long way in debunking the need for Mistress’s around the world to play dress up in their scary leather & latex uniforms. Subtracting clothes goes a lot further psychologically than adding clothes.
Anyways, he was gung ho to answer the door naked for me, I just had to say go after I finished laughing. He’d been told twice already that it was something he was going to do.
I got Dave a plate and set it before him on the coffee table and then instructed him to go wash his hands. “You just jacked off in the bathroom, go clean your hands before touching your food.”
Another order. Another act of compliance. They’re small but they add up, like turning the pages of a book and looking back somewhat later to see how much you’ve read. What was not compliant though is that he came back from the bathroom fully dressed again.
“Did I say you could get dressed?”
“I wasn’t going to sit naked and watch you eat.”
“That’s fine, you can leave now.”
This time, a very long moment of silence passed.
“I’m not sure I’m all that comfortable staying anyways … to be honest” then he went into a recount of how well he thought we were getting along and that he’s having a hard time reading if I’m joking or serious. “I mean, I’ve never met a Thai girl quite like you, you’re not like any girl I’ve ever met.” He shifted his feet side to side, took a moment to rub at his hair with his right hand. “I like you, that’s the thing.”
“I like you too” I said with a smile. “Still, there’s the door, see yourself out” and I picked up a fork in the kitchen to dig into my fried crab rice.
“So that’s it?”
And he left. I think he said “bloody hell” once the door swung closed behind him. Anti climactic huh? Well like I said, this was a look into my thoughts, not a recount of the occasional miracle session I pull off. It was important he left under my terms, most dates don’t end with the man being commanded to leave. To his credit, it’s 5:30 am now and still no sms from him. It’ll come in the morning though, I guarantee it. It’ll say something like “blah blah blah … wonderful evening … blah blah blah … would love to see you again.”
Do you want me to see him again? Since it’s safe to say he’s not aware of this blog, we can fuck with him a bit. Send me an email telling me if you enjoyed this little peep into my mind, and if you’d like me to see Dave again – give me a challenge. Tell me something you want me to make him do , and I’ll see if I can pull it off … and hopefully with some proof to go along with it.
I’m off to bed, good night all.