Elusive. Evasive. Persistent. Righteous traits for a Mistress – or a fighter.
Until yesterday, I was teetering on being both and now – despair , for I am but one. I must have told every man I saw over the past month that I had shifted my Muay Thai focus to preparing for my first fight sometime early this year. Incredibly , not one of you gents had the wisdom to tell me that climbing in the ring with a trained killer was not one of my better ideas.
My new years resolution was two-fold. First I took the encouragement from my Muay Thai trainer to heart and agreed to start training seriously for a fight – this had actually begun back at the beginning of December as I increased both the duration and frequency of my training sessions. Aside from my fitness my other resolution was to begin studying a third language full time , eight hours a day and be able to converse with it by year’s end.
Once you get to know me you’ll find out quickly that I’m incredibly ambitious. To a fault really. I have a morbid fear of being aware the moment before death that I accomplished too little in my life, a thought that would leave me a hands breadth from becoming unwound – only to be saved by eternal darkness.
My latest problem , one that’s followed me like a lost kitten attaching itself to my leg , is that I’m very happy in my life right now. Yes I”m alone – all day – every day , but I’m not lonely. I’ve embraced solitude. I’m incredibly happy with my website and the quality of submissive men it attracts. I’ve created a magnet for men seeking something new and exciting as if they are on a quest for something elusively stimulating , and such men i connect with on such a higher level night in and night out , it’s made my mistress life incredibly fun.
I bought a house. For my parent.
The animals I supported financially all year have all recovered and are doing well. The goodwill that I’ve paid out has lifted my heart and I’m happy that I’m the kind of girl who gives back to those in need now that I’m removed from poverty.
I”m content. Therein is where we die.
So when January rolled around and I realized the guy selling me my movie ticket for the 2pm matinee I go see every day knew me by name it dawned on me that I needed to shake things up and put myself once again into an unsettling environment.
That afternoon when my Muay Thai trainer arrived at my condo I told him I’m ready to train seriously for a fight. While in the evenings I began prepping myself for my German studies by dedicating a solid two hours of study every night except for Sundays. In my email I sought out sessions that were not within my comfort zone , settling on a forty two year old Swiss dude with a penchant of wearing a red bandanna around his neck – who wanted me to “humble” him in a public setting.
Suddenly my life had momentum and purpose. Instead of sleeping until late afternoon I was up at noon every day and by 1 pm I was in the gym downstairs for 2 hours hitting pads swiftly , with purpose behind every punch. I built up a 100 word vocabulary in German and was beginning my replies to session inquiries originating from Germany in their own language. In the mail arrived my neck collar with an embedded electrical shock device much the same as the one in this video …
Nothing gives me more joy than the thought of taking a man shopping and making him buy or wear anything my heart desires without fear of the male backtalk bullshit. I was going to humble this Swiss fashion cowboy by putting that bandanna to good use as camouflage for the much thinner and also red version of the neck collar he was going to wear.
Then yesterday happened.
In the morning I spent 3 minutes cooking scrambled eggs and labored 30 minutes at boiling my new mouth guard , too afraid to put the hot thing in my mouth as I have terribly sensitive teeth. But it had to be molded as my trainer told me that afternoon he was bringing a girl from his gym to spar with me full contact. I was juiced. All morning I was pacing my condo like a caged cougar thinking how I was going to pop this girl with my 2-3-1 combo or even better yet , my 1 -1- 2 jab jab followed by a right cross to her chin.
I”m small , tiny by some standards , but the girl who showed up at my place was tinnier than me. Confidence soared. Courage howled.
We moved the gym equipment to one end of the room so we had a perfect wide open carpeted area to mess around in , by the time we were ready the only thing still standing untouched in the room was the black and white circular clock that stood between the two windows looking out towards the pool area.
As we march toward one another in our traditional Muay Thai stances she suddenly unleashes a spinning back kick that lands directly on my right tit. Even with her padded footwear – fuck that hurt. I’ve had guys squeeze her too hard, bite her, even scratch her , but those pains trivialized the pain of her heal popping my nipple inside out. I looked at my trainer and wanted to say “15 months of this shit and it never dawned on you that either teaching me the spinning back kick or how to defend it would be a good idea?”
Well that’s the cost of preparedness , measured now in money , later – in blood.
Cute chick follows with a lackadaisical spinning back fist that she pulls out of short of completion. I sense weakness. I strike.
My first two jabs of my 1 – 1- 2 are like a Shaquill O’neal jump shot , nothing but air. My right straight is punched out of the air by her left and my arm flies upward stopping in a “heil hitler” pose. I see her counter hook coming and I block it with my left arm and momentarily I was pleased with my proper reflex action which absorbed the shot completely.
And then … mortality clarified in a single strike.
My next three thoughts in chronological order were “why does the clock look like the one from the Salvidor Dali paintings suddenly?” , “why can’t I feel my legs?” , “why am I in a head & shoulders massage position on my trainers lap?”
So , let me inject a little backstory here if I may. On my xmas holidays I was in a mild car accident. Though it happened so fast there are clearly two moments from that which I remember as if time stood still infinitely in that nano second. The first was the fraction of a second that I was flying from the back seat of the car into the head rest of the seat in front of me. I had a thought scream through my electrical synapses that said “hey I’m flying”. The second thing I remember was the few seconds of absolute nothingness in my brain immediately after the impact. I was clearly aware that I was asking myself the question “what just happened” and there was no response. For however brief a moment , I was catatonic.
That’s how I felt the rest of that afternoon. Long after they had apologized for the millionth time as Thai’s tend to do and had left my condo I knew only that I had to get things done that afternoon , but as I went about doing those things – I had no recollection I was doing them. Make sense?
My first stop was the German school that I’ll be attending this year , I had to pay for the term which begins next Monday. So the girl at the desk is explaining to me that I’ll be beginning in A1 and progressing to A2 the second term. However, A1 is broken into two sub sets , an A1 and an A2 both which require separate payments of 11,000.
She’s explaining and I’m hearing Charlie Brown’s teacher say to me “wah wah wah wah wah wah.”
I’m sure if you held up a 1 + 1 = ? cue card in front of me I wouldn’t have been able to answer it. The frustration of not understanding her was showing on my face as I got increasingly aggravated with myself for failing to comprehend her perfect English.
I ended up stretching my eyes with my hands as if I was trying to pull them right around to the back of my head while simultaneously pulling my hair back and out of my scalp. Kind of like the Alien dude in Men in Black did …
I’m lucky she enrolled me when I plopped the 22k on her table , she could just as easily pushed the wad of cash back at me while telling me “sorry , we don’t enroll nutjobs at this school.” Whatever, Küsse mein arschloch.
I was back home by 6pm and still in a daze at 7pm when red bandanna guy texts me asking me if he can come over early so we could get to dinner sooner. I was craving sleep , not so much from being tired but more from just needing to rest my brain I think , so I was in no mood to go humble this guy … or at least so I thought. As it turned out I was in the perfect state of mind – or absence of mind – to humble a guy.
Until that point , I had plenty of experience humiliating a guy , especially publicly , but hadn’t really wrapped my brain around what humbling a guy entailed. I got him in my dog collar at my condo just fine, but then he refused to go outside without his bandanna around his neck. He then felt the need to show to me on his Sony phone (seriously , who buys a phone from Sony?) his 1000 photos of him wearing a bandanna in every single one. So fine, I let him wear it under one condition , that being that he go out with me wearing Fang – my painful chastity device with the nails piercing the cock.
When he agreed to the terms of the deal I let him pop the 2 viagra he had in his wallet – which apparently is the de facto thing you don’t leave home without nowadays along with the token condom men throw in “just in case” they get lucky.
So an hour after being tied to my bed with my skillful hands putting the viagra to full use I locked Fang onto his bulging cock with a scream or two of disapproval from bandanna boy. Ten minutes later we were walking down Sukhumivt heading to Terminal 21 for some shopping. I’d normally say shopping “fun” but I was exhausted by this point of the day , so much so that I caught my eyes closing for a wink of sleep while riding the giant escalator up to the third floor of Terminal.
Normally I play a game using that escalator. I tell whomever is riding it up with me to close his eyes when we get on and not to open them until we are within five seconds of the top. If he fails to keep them closed until the final 5 seconds , he’s doomed himself to no orgasm later that evening. This time I told bandanna boy if he opens his eyes too soon he gets shocked as soon as he steps off.
Sure enough, like all guys do , he opens his eyes a good 15 seconds before the top – try it – it’s impossible to do !!
Two steps off the escalator he lets out a very loud “äckbwaglaa” when I shock his collar for the first time. Powerful little device , for I only tapped the clicker in my hand briefly.
The loudness of that yell dissuaded me from zapping him at dinner and he was visibly sad I didn’t. When humiliating somebody the point is to have everybody laugh or get mad at him and have me somehow excluded from people’s stares. Hard to do.
Anyways , I wanted to go home after dinner. It was a three hour session though and I was struggling to keep my eyes open not to mention the pounding headache from the morning had returned and my mood was becoming increasingly foul. To take a load off my feet I had the guy model dresses for me in the department store much to his chagrin. After sending him in with a god awful knee high pink poofy dress he disappeared into the changing room for longer than expected.
Long enough for my head to drop back , my ass to slump forward , and I was deep into rem sleep when I was tapped on the shoulder by one of the two salesladies standing beside me.
I live enough of a solitary life that I’m not used to being touched out in public so my reaction to her hand on my shoulder was a bit of an over reaction. That’s because being snapped out of my sudden sleep caused me to push and hold the button in my right palm.
That caused a loud shriek to come from the mouth of bandanna guy as he let out an astonishingly long and continuous äckbwaglaaa again. People were staring at me because of him doing so which annoyed me even more. So to shut him up I pressed the button in rapid fire like was changing tv channels while giving him a “shut the fuck up” stare.
Didn’t work. He stumbled backwards clutching his neck and crashed into the wall mirror behind him shattering it into a thousand pieces. Twenty more people had come to see what the commotion was about and for a moment there was dead silence. Then it happened.
He didn’t want to step out of the glass , he didn’t want to stop clutching his neck. So he instead let out a muffled shriek of despair and pain , then shook his hips not once but twice which made his pink dress shake and shiver.
… and a moment later the spiked chastity device fell from between his legs like he had dropped a metallic turd on the floor – landing with a crushing clank as it landed on a shard of glass.
Shyly he reached down to pick it up and I thought to myself “fuck it” … and I let him have a good 3 second final blast which toppled him over head first and he did a complete roll landing on his back in front of everybody.
Humbling complete !! – as accidental as it may have been.