Mistress Wael | Elite Female Domination

Category: Opinion

  • A Novel Idea

    A Novel Idea

    I have goals that I write down at the start of every year month and week , for without a clear direction time can be wasted , and isn’t that the ultimate sin since we’re around on this planet so briefly?

    Woke up this morning to find an email from my friend telling me that George Michael had died on Christmas Day and I thought , come on really – him — HIM ?  I posted my disbelief on my Twitter and got an instant reply from somebody saying “get used to it , it gets worse.”  That reply bugged me so much that I deleted my post and I tried to reflect a bit on what it might be like to in fact be forty nine years old and not twenty nine.

    I’d imagine growing up twenty years before I did , one would have related their childhood to inspirational figures like George Michael , Prince , David Bowie , Muhammad Ali , Alan Rickman , Kimbo Slice, Gordie Howe … and closer to home : our king , as my mom was – and still is devastated by his passing.

    I suppose what that guy meant in his reply is that people you knew and loved slowly pass away one by one , almost unnoticeable until suddenly you find yourself alone.

    That’s why I have so many goals , I feel such an urgency to get to where I really want to be because it seems so far and unattainable , especially with my personal clock approaching thirty.  I may not know what it’s like to be fifty , but I do know how fast life went from age ten until now.

     

     

    That’s an excerpt from a nice email somebody sent me – one which made me scream out loud in frustration as he accidentally pointed out my biggest failure this year – I still haven’t finished my first book.  I don’t want people to write about me, I want it to be me who does the writing !!

    Where can I find the time?  I’m learning German full time , writing blogs , training for my first Muay Thai fight , answering email , doing two sessions a day and learning how to drive.

    Well in fairness, I accomplished learning to drive back in October.

     

     

    I’ve been thinking about what this profession is evolving to.  It’s clear as a bell to me to me now why the original Jaa retired after five years of being a mistress.  How this job breaks down is like this.  Every month I get on average one hundred session requests and from those I filter them down to fifty sessions I’d be interested in doing.  Out of those fifty sessions, ten will cancel leaving me with forty guys I actually get to meet.

    From those forty sessions, about thirty will have been a very memorable two hours , and again on average 25 of them will make definite arrangements to come back and see me.  So you can see where the repeat sessions start to snowball when added to the new session requests and one could very easily make this a life’s profession on such a business model.

    mistress low key photography jaa4uBut here’s the secret of the mistress industry.  Just as it was for Jaa , so it is for me ; that out of those thirty fabulous sessions per month ; one person is absolutely guaranteed to deem the experience life altering for him.  So much so that his devotion becomes an obsession.  That leaves twelve smitten men per year and of those , up to three of them will be lifelong slaves.

    I’m talking so financially , emotionally and spiritually devoted that his life’s purpose becomes making me happy.  If I wanted a guy to walk like a dog behind me through the streets of Bangkok with his wallet in his mouth as I went shopping – my biggest problem would be deciding on which man of my harem would I choose.  This is the path of devotion I was referring to when I wrote about my fascination with no longer doing toilet training sessions but instead bestowing the honor of eating from my ass upon the most worthy of my slaves.

    If I want a car to take me to Pattaya and have the driver wait for me all day while I rest on the beach – I simply need to text three people at most and choose the first car to arrive.  Upon returning to my condo just before midnight it’s totally on me whether I ignore the guy who treated me so nicely this day , or whether i let him kiss my foot, or whether I kick him lightly in his balls , or perhaps fuck it – I lean over and french kiss him if I really want to fuck up his mind and ratchet up his devotion to me.

    It’s my call.

    Thing is , as lucrative as that is , it’s not what I want.

    I want all this to evolve so that in the end I’m known as a writer.  A novelist.

    Ya go ahead chuckle , laugh , roll your eyes – by all means doubt me.  How many Thai novelists are there in the world ?  One that i know of , and that’s only because her name – being the word Shit – made her cookbook a coffee table talking piece.

    Look, I’ve read Fifty Shades of Grey , it made me throw up in my mouth a bit.  I’ve read other mistress’s novellas , about twenty of them , I can’t get by the first chapter on most.  Not because of how poorly written they are , but because the “submissive / mistress” relationship described is just erroneous , it’s nonsensical fiction that never ever happens in a a real life situation.

    One “dominatrix”novelist wrote a story about her slave carrying an enormous letter “M” made out of logs (for mistress I suppose) on his back as he walked around in circles in her backyard all day.  This – according to her – got the devotion out of her slave that she was demanding.  Fuck really?  I got more devotion out of my session date last night when I grabbed him by his dick through his pants and pulled him out of line at El Gaucho restaurant because the staff wasn’t being attentive enough to us and he didn’t seem to notice it displeased me.

    In each blog story I try to give you a snapshot into my mind so you can get a taste of how a girl like me is wired differently than other girls you may have come across in your life.  A novel would just be a great collection of those snippets , I fucking need to get going on writing them all out for you.

     

     

    That’s just the most recent of emails talking to me about where I need to go with this , there are many of its ilk.  For me , 2017 is going to be the year where I write my ass off and let’s just see if I can grow from being the most professional domina in Bangkok to a more internationally acclaimed mistress.  Kind of like Auston Powers – International Mistress of Mystery –  but without the glasses and chest hair.

    Now that’s been said , it’s time to fuck off on vacation for a couple of weeks.  lol.

    Well I can’t very well be inspired by these condo walls can I ?  I need a beach , and not just any beach.  A foreign beach with cascading mountains in the background and a cool coconut scented breeze enticing my senses as the water from the lagoon laps at my sandy toes – which dangle from my slave,  kneeling as my foot stool for the day.   taa taa boys.

    xx

     

     

     

  • One Foot – To the Other | Merry Christmas

    One Foot – To the Other | Merry Christmas

    “How?” I said , can I be glad and sad – but a person goes from one foot to the other.

    Christmas, that lonely, lovely crowded place in our heads.

    At Christmas, some of us hunger for a larger family life than perhaps we had.

    We were a family of three, we could never afford a holiday feast let alone a gift.

    But I had dreams , even living in a country where Christmas is only an un-celebrated day off , the books I had read always made me dream of friends , Santa , and gifts under a pine tree.

    Thank you dreams.  You are the large family which comforts.

    It doesn’t have to be typical.

    Just as I told my friend , hospitalized since the summer and struggling with Leukemia , to dream of making it to this holiday so I could sit beside her and she can open my gift , I also found a dream to place in my heart.  To honor her , and her courage, throughout the year.

    If there was one picture to keep in your Christmas heart , it’d be this one , from the man who dreamed bigger than any of us ever have …

     

    dreams

     

     

    Christmas is not about a binge of presents.

    It’s actually very much about that which is taken from us.

    It’s about the gifts of courage , passion , and honor we receive when – on our knees , someone stands beside us.

    Sad , and glad –  from one foot …

    … to the next.

     

    Merry Christmas everybody.

    xx

     

     

     

     

  • Shall We Play a Game?

    Shall We Play a Game?

    I had one of those exquisite moments where my mind linked meaning in two videos separated by a generation of time , and I was perfectly proud of myself for making the connection.  I was having one of those wonderful information quests on the internet that takes you down unexpected paths and usually lands me on a webpage that makes me gasp “how the fuck did I end up here?”

    As I’m a movie aficionado my night started off as it usually does, perusing the upcoming movie trailers page on IMDB ‘s website where I was looking for something similar to WestWorld , a show that I desperately want to watch but isn’t available yet at any of my bootlegged video haunts which I frequent.  If you’ve back read my blog , heaven forbid , you’ve no doubt picked up on my interests in the parabolic growth of technology , a wave that we’re caught up in but are so blasé about.

    bill and ted's excellent femdom blogRather than jump out of a chair and scream “holy shit , I never thought I’d EVER see that in my lifetime” people tend to shrug their shoulders every year at things that should mind boggle them … but lest I forget that societal reaction is usually akin to Bill & Ted saying “most excellent”.

    So WestWorld , a very cool show it seems to me , based on an android community that seeks to rebel has really piqued my interest lately.  Whilst I”m waiting for it to be sold here I tracked down a cool trailer for an upcoming movie called Morgan , also based on a rogue android , this time a female prototype.  Oddly enough, this movie trailer was introduced by an IBM employee telling me that the trailer was created by IBM ‘s android like computer WATSON without any human interference.

    Up until that very moment, Watson to me was both Sherlock Holmes’s detective assistant and a mainstream drug store chain here in Bangkok.

    So curiosity bit the cat inside me and I started on my quest to find out who or what WATSON was.  That line of research eventually brought me to a YouTube video where Watson was a contestant on the American game show Jeopardy.

     

     

    If anything fits the description of a :  “holy shit, I never thought I’d EVER see this in my lifetime” video … THIS IS IT.   And yes I did jump out of my chair , or my sofa as it were.  It made me want to go to the Apple store tomorrow just so that I can say to one of the phones for sale there “SIRI , you’re irrelevant already.”

    Which is true.  We’ve gone from IPhone to SIRI Iphone , to Google Now , all in 7 years , and they’re already completely irrelevant and outdated.

    As eerily fantastic as Watson seems to be , how fitting is it that it would be Google’s Deep Mind project that could say “Elementary my dear Watson” and get away with its condescending tone as it smirks wryly at the babbling box on Jeopardy.

    One thing I’m astutely aware of is that , well if Google was a wallet , it’d be the one that says Bad Ass Motherfucker on it.

     

     

    I realize this is a ‘spank your dick’ blog , and you’re not nearly into this shit as much as I am , but if you’re the one or two guys out there who is , you’re gonna love this connection that I made between the next two videos as much as I did.

    The video below , if the embed works properly (cuz fuck YouTube, what the fuck is up with you guys fucking up something that was working perfectly well.  You guys working at YouTube remind me of a baby that needs it’s hands slapped when it touches something it shouldn’t) should start at the 5:47 mark , pay particular attention to the Space Invaders part where the computer is self teaching itself how to win.

     

     

    Does that Space Invaders part of the video ring any bells for you?

    What if I told you that you saw that exact same scene play out in a movie made thirty three years ago.  Shall we play a game?  How about Tic Tac Toe …

     

     

    And now here we are , 2016 , and WOPR is a reality.

    It’s learning, and it’s learning fast.  You might shrug your shoulders at Tic Tac Toe or Space Invaders , but how about next year when it becomes the best player in the world at StarCraft II  !!!

     

    https://youtu.be/T90YHDI6gNM

     

    I’m certain that if and when Deep Mind accomplishes that feat , the accompanying YouTube video will get a few million “likes” and a few million Bill & Ted like comments saying “most excellent!!”

    Meanwhile I’ll be the one jumping out of my sofa … again.

    xx

     

    (yes i’m working on a new blog story that details a very hot girl on girl session I had , hopefully I’ll have it done by tomorrow)

     

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  • Banana = Monkey = The American Dream

    Banana = Monkey = The American Dream

    “Good Morning, it’s 7am , in conformity , there lays bliss.”

    Having lived in the city over the past five years , the past two in my quite luxurious condo , I hadn’t been jolted from my sleep by the blaring of the speakers that permeate the village where I grew up for quite some time.  Yet there it was, 7am right to the very second , the brain washing diatribe on my senses had begun each morning last week from the house where I grew up.

    For those of you who are unfamiliar with what goes on in every village across the land here , seven o’clock in the morning brings with it thirty minutes of community news being blared out from the speakers that adorn every pole along every side street and it’s nay unavoidable to listen to unless you were born deaf.  Buried among the endless notifications of when the medical clinic opens , and what day the night market is open , is the subtle message that it’s just fine and dandy to be poor , and that one should instead focus on finding happiness within one’s life.

    In our language, it’s called serakit bae plaw pliang , and it’s basically scripture , so until I’m living permanently in Europe I won’t be writing about it , else I put myself in danger of a forced lobotomy.

    As I sat there that morning looking for a distraction from the blaring of the speakers I was playing with my phone and found out that Donald Trump had been elected President of the United States.  Hey don’t say I didn’t tell you so , in fact , the first thing I said on my Twitter was this :

     

    of course the second thing I tweeted was a bit more of a smart ass comment :

     

     

    Because there it was , the fruition of The American Dream.  From reality show celebrity , to bankruptcy to President.  If you give ‘the people’ the power to choose whomever they want, then sure as hell that is what they will do.

    By contrast, where I live we are given a choice to vote for whatever fruit you want,  so long as it’s a banana.

    I sat there thinking what’s better, Trump or a banana?

    Truth is , they are one in the same.  Whether you sell it as a stimulant like the American’s do , or as a Barbiturate as it’s done here , it’s still horse manure all nicely packaged as a “dream”.  The only difference is that American’s get to dream rich but end up poor and in debt , while we are just handed poverty at the outset and told ‘hey be happy with it.’

    It doesn’t matter one bit that Donald Trump is president.  Fuck they could have elected a monkey , it wouldn’t change a thing about the course to come in the next four years.  Same goes for this part of the world I was cursed to be born in , as whatever banana we’re finally given to choose will bring about as much change ‘for the people’ as a monkey will in the USA.

    And why?

    I’ll let George Carlin explain why :

     

     

     

    The profession of campaigning is broken.

    The electoral process is broken.

    The very notion of governance is flawed.

    It’s antiquated.  It’s self-serving.

    A system who’s roots come from the prehistoric days where we lived in an oral-aural society , one that chooses the ‘wise man’ of the village to lead them , and we’ve kept that system where one great all knowing all wise person is chosen to lead hundreds of millions.  What bullshit.

    I care not a thought for the monkey or the banana , but instead for myself.

    My vote is such:  Live like a rogue.  Get rich.  Then get the fuck out and leave the monkeys and bananas behind.  Therein lays MY bliss.

    xx

     

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  • From Hell to Lucille

    From Hell to Lucille

    “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

    In 1967 William Shatner and Gene Roddenberry had to plea with NBC to keep the word HELL in Kirk’s last line of dialogue in the Star Trek episode “The City on the Edge of Forever.”  The television studio thought the word HELL was too shocking and inappropriate for the viewing audience and they feared any public lash back would endanger the profitability of the show.

    Fast forward nearly 50 years to last nights season premiere of The Walking Dead for a jaw dropping comparison of what the world finds acceptable on television nowadays.

    My question is , when will the public say enough!  For if we view the bar of acceptance not as a static measuring stick but as a floating one that keeps getting pushed further up the parabolic curve of acceptable brutality – then what will be the standard 50 years hence?

    Consider that technology is already upon us that can make virtual reality and the realistic graphics within indistinguishable from our real world.

    Following progress to it’s logical conclusion, in the span of a century we will have gone from debating whether the word HELL is too threatening to being fully immersed into real as real can be torture porn.

    In case you’ve been living on another planet and are not aware of the 7 month build up to last night’s episode, here it is – viewer damn well beware :

     

     

    In wanting to see if other people’s reactions were similar to mine, I spent an hour not only looking over reaction videos but I also went back to the last episode of Game of Thrones to compare facial expressions.  After all, Cersei did slaughter about 500 more innocent people than Negan did , and one might argue just as ruthlessly.

    The result?  Whereas there was discourse either with the recording camera or with other people in the room in the GoT’s highest shock moment , and there was a variety of expressions, reactions, and cheers even … TWD by comparison had people visibly questioning what they were watching :

     

     

    In 2005 the torture porn era was ushered in with controversy over whether the torture flick Hostel should have been slapped with an X rating or whether the R rating was severe enough.  We’re just over a decade removed from that controversy and now no rating is needed at all to show an hour of brutality 100 times worse than anything Hostel provided , and that was on American television where anyone at any age could watch.

    If I were to relate this acceptance of viewable violence to what I do , then in every session it would be the norm to push the limits of sado-masochism , thus extracting nothing but fear and pain from my … well … ‘victims’ I’d have to call them.

    The tools I use and the manner in which I use them are craftily executed.  If I hold a whip in my hand there need not be any demonstration of what said whip can do and the pain it can potentially extract.  What I can do with that whip however is play with your mind , it can command obedience without ever having to lash out.  Scripted horror viewable by the masses should be carried out in the same artistic way that I act throughout my sessions , it should be artfully done, as it was in 1999’s American Beauty :

     

     

    We could end the movie at the sight of the stained wall and everyone would effectually know what just occurred.

    Milton.  Gene L. Coon.  Stanley Kubrick.  Ingmar Bergman.

    They passed the torch of writing excellency to this generations ‘shockflock’ of screenwriters, and that torch has been sadly dropped.

    You’ll find no Lucille in my closet of toys gentlemen.  Words , setting , tone, a sense of theater , those are both a mistress’s and a writers best tools.  Negan’s a badass, I get it.  In my own way though, so am I.  The difference being?  Well  one will be forgotten once the newest level of shocking brutality is accepted , and one will surive paying homage to the great writers of the past.

    I guess then that makes me the guardian of forever.  Now if you’ll excuse I have to get the hell out of here to do a session.

    xx

     

     

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  • A Very Long Rope

    A Very Long Rope

    Hate is such a vicious vile word , with sheer wanton maliciousness behind every instance it is spoken.  Thus, it must be used not liberally, but instead preciously saved for a deserved target of one’s venom.  In my life, there has been no greater thing that commands me to use the word Hate as its descriptor than that of the word School and all the maladies that word encompasses.

    I was recently asked in an email “how can your English be so good , you’re Thai.”

    He took the philosophical pretense of “I speak, therefore I am” , flipped it on it’s head so it would become “I’m Thai, therefore I am not.”

    I hate that.

    Thing is , he’s right.  In thinking of how to reply to him I wanted not to argue but instead to validate his point with reason, show proof of that reasoning, and show him what extraordinary measures it took to slip out of the societal mainstream and set myself up in an environment where I could succeed despite the moniker of being labelled “Thai.”

    I, like all Thai’s, was set up to fail from my first day in school.  And please, let’s not call it school but rather let’s call it what it really was , purgatory.  Borrowing from the Christian definition then, it was a place of purification (brain washing), so as to achieve the holiness (lobotomy) necessary to enter the joy of heaven (factory work).

    The rich are self-serving, and in countries such as mine where they are allowed to dictate policy, school is but a trap.  I had a teacher one time, back when I studied abroad, who began his first lecture by putting a rope on the table before him.  A big burly Russian man with a full grey beard – about to teach a semester of Creative Writing – said “Before you is a rope, a rope of opportunity.  In my class you can either use it to climb to new heights , or you can use it to hang yourself, the choice is yours.

    Typical me, I stood up (I purposely stopped raising my hand in grade 5) and said before the class “in my country the rope comes with the noose already prepared, it’s nice to have an option now.”  Well actually, I had to use a lot of hand gestures and acting to get that point across because I had Seseme Street level English as a weapon though I had graduated with a major in English – but we’ll get to that in a moment.

    I had wanted to reply to that person’s email with this video.  For you, I don’t want you to watch the video, I want you to take it to heart.

     

     

    The proof is in the pudding.

    I was at Mistress Wael’s condo two days ago.  She was trying to get 500 cupcakes baked as an order for her newly started bakery business , and she needed me to make a few trips to bring them over to the hospital that ordered them.  Anyways, whilst I was there she got a call from her daughter on Skype and she picked up the call to find her ten year old daughter crying.  Wael who sees her daughter but once a year , while working in Bangkok so she can provide a “better life” for her daughter by sending her to a school that’s just above gov’t level , assumed her daughter was crying because they missed each other.

    What had happened though was that her daughter had been sent home from school with a disciplinary letter stating why her daughter had been spanked in front of the class that day.

    The infraction?

    Her child was caught listening to a YouTube song in English at lunch time.  One that Wael had sent the link for so that her daughter could practice her English as the song – Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” comes with lyrics.

     

     

    Let me translate for you one sentence in the note sent home with her daughter :

    “Listening to English is strongly discouraged and we are dismayed that your daughter chooses not to focus instead upon her Northern Thai language skills.”

    Harken back if you will to the point in the video I linked where he says children in school are discouraged from expressing their creativity, imagination, and critical thought.  I too rest my case.  The school system here should be on trial for the murder of imagination.

    Had that been my daughter (yes i’d love to have a cute daughter one day) I’d have sent a reply suggesting each school put up a McDonald’s like sign that says “Over 99 Billion Robots Created”.

    Sadly, the only available recourse of action that would save her daughter would be to enroll her in a foreign international school which comes with the lofty price tag of 250,000 for the privilege to think creatively in a society that forbids it.

    So how did I exclude myself enough from being Thai that allowed me to get a fair grip on the English language?

    I got the fuck out of here that’s what.

    After all, I had a degree in English from a prominent Thai University , I surely was prepared to study abroad right?  When Vladimir my Russian teacher of Creative Writing began his first lecture in that little foreign college , I remember looking to my left and then to my right before slumping in my chair and thinking “how is it possible I understand nothing of what this guy is saying?”

    bondage femdom jaa4u bdsm bangkok

    At the end of that first class as people were shuffling out of the smallish 100 seat lecture room I waited until the very last one had left before I stood up and saluted towards the ceiling.  Vlad caught sight of me doing so and asked simply “why?”

    “I was saying thank you … for nothing … to my country.”

    Again he asked only “why?”

    “I just realized my degree is useless.  I understand nothing you say.  I have no money.  I have no friends to talk with.  I have nothing.”

    “Not true” he said, pushing the thing on his desk in my direction.  “Now you have a rope” and he gave me a wink I’ll never forget before he sauntered out of the classroom with that to and fro wobble he walked with.

    I may have understood but 1% of anything he said that day , but I’m thankful I understood that 1% with such vivid clarity.  For it was that day that I began my climb, and now here I am today.

    I pondered for a bit on how to answer that person’s email , he being so nonchalantly condescending didn’t really deserve such an elaborate response.  So instead I simply replied :

    “I was fortunate to have been given a very long rope.”

     

    xx

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  • Ballbusting | Swing and a Miss

    Ballbusting | Swing and a Miss

    Instead of thinking of a clever way to combine a show recommendation , a comment on a session , and a viewpoint into one story that flows together with a common theme and segue’s for all , i’m just going to present the ideas floating around my head in its crudest form. Cleverness be damned, sometimes it’s better to say things quickly and get back to scratching pussy all afternoon.

    My thanks to the guy who put me onto the best show I’ve seen since Breaking Bad , it’s called Black Mirror and it’s utterly fantastic viewing. Nine years ago my friend fatally spent a great deal of money on his Motorolla Razr “flip phone” which was the greatest thing since sliced bread at the time.

    What was the greatest thing before sliced bread I wonder?

    At the same time he bought that – i was studying oversees at the time – the boss of the shitty little restaurant I was working in to pay the bills would show off his RIMM phone … and could be seen all day long proudly walking around typing in emails with his pencil stylus on the uber tiny phone keyboard.

    A month later both of them had thrown their prized possessions in the bin as the IPhone was invented rendering all previous technology redundant.

    Here we are not a decade later and I’m creating this blog by talking to Corona on my Windows 10 who is listening and converting this to text as I speak. I’ve answered all my emails today without pressing a single key and I’m sitting on the BTS train right now looking at a backpacker dude wearing what I think are the Google glasses while his hippy like girlfriend is standing beside him wearing double backpacks on her back and chest and an even more ridiculous GoPro camera on her head that she could possibly be streaming live.

    Question. If that’s a snapshot of the evolution that’s occurred over the past 9 years, what will a similar snapshot look like 9 short years hence?

    The answer to that question is being explored episode by episode in that great show Black Mirror, a sort of a modern day Twilight Zone but with a hidden message that screams at us to stop and think for a moment where we’re going with all this technology.

    Ok the next random thought running through my head is that while I do all sorts of sessions to please all types of fantasies and I proclaim to understand a great deal about what makes a man tick … some sessions just leave me with a feeling of “huh? … that excites you?”

    ballbustingOne of the reasons I took up Muay Thai four days a week is that I got chastised in my first ball busting session on the fact that my kicks were not forceful enough. Until that session my ball busting sessions had been focused on making the two hours as painfully sexy as possible , teetering the man’s feelings between feeling horny and being in pain from lightly but perfectly placed love taps on his scrotum with my shoes.

    It had been told to me that a whiff … a strike that barely misses the balls and only grazes them was ten times worse than a direct strike. While I played with that idea over the first year seeking to validate the theory , there remains some dudes out there who derive erotic pleasure from the type of severe strike to the testicles that makes other men cringe. It’s this demographic of people, which i’d say is less than 1% of all inquiries that led me to learn how to strike properly.

    Though I’m only into my fifth month of learning to strike properly , I’ve now developed a ball busting session that introduces the guy to 10 distinct levels of painful strikes. The details of which I’ll write later after I’ve refined my techniques a bit further , my purpose today is to admit freely that while I’m working to perfect such a session … I yet to understand how it satisfies a sexual fantasy. I have no idea. For instance, I know my private photo gallery is considered to be extremely hot by most if not all of you guys , and while I’ve had some remarkable comments about how it affects people, none have been more strange than this one received a few days ago:

    ” I can’t stop touching myself and punching my balls to your pictures. ”

    I’m sorry but to me, a guy punching himself in the balls is like me thrusting a 14 inch rubber dick into my vagina so hard that I bruise my Urethra to the point that I cannot walk all day. But I had to take that comment seriously as I’m constantly reminded in this profession that each person has a unique fetish that turns him on.

    Put it this way , I’d say the reason most people in long term relationships are not happy is because their particular fetish is not being met. Now granted, i’m only talking from a man’s point of view , I really have no idea if us girls in general are as equally frustrated as men , I’m sure there’s a male model out there who’s conquered enough pussy in his lifetime that could shed some light on the female perspective.

    So as I hinted at in my last story, I spent quite a while preparing for Sunday’s session with this guy , and after practicing all 10 levels on my sofa’s armrest before he arrived I had pretty much mastered the 10 levels of painful kicks and the style that I’d present them in.

    He only got to level 7 , and though I left him crumpled up on the floor on more than a few occasions over the two hours , he did send me this email yesterday to tell me how much he enjoyed the session :

    ball-session-good

     

    Go figure. Job well done though I’m just as clueless as to the “why” rupturing testicles turns guys on.

    Ok and lastly, Wael’s birthday is coming up on the 15th and while she’d really like a backpack to *replace her torn and tattered one , I’m just going to gift her an airplane ticket so she can see her daughter back in Chiang Rai who she hasn’t seen for a year. If I combine the girls in my circle of Thai friends and her circle of friends , there is not a single girl who gets to see her kids more than once a year. It’s a sad silent consequence of being born a girl here. Level 10 ball busting should be mandatory for the men growing up in these parts. Now THAT’S something i can understand lol.

    xx

    *The backpack on her wish list is $69, but in reality she’s only $20 off buying it with money in her account so if someone who liked her session could front just the 20 , I’ll buy it for her.

     

    [one_half][formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half] [one_half_last][formcrafts id=’20566′ name=’Session With Wael’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half_last]

  • Silent Dignity

    Silent Dignity

    Well I got released from the hospital yesterday and I suppose the good news is that the pain has subsided enough that I can focus long enough to type something without passing out.  The bad news then I guess is that the pain I’m in is still excruciating and I’m still bed ridden.  Which obviously means that unless one wanted to come over and stare at this tearful mess that I’ve become for  your two hours of femdom fun – there will be no sessions any time soon.  I’m estimating at least a week , maybe two.

    What to take away from this experience?  Well, now that I’ve had to spend well over $5,000 in European or American currency this year for unplanned medical visits I could say that it’s about time I invest in some medical insurance , however that wasn’t the big take away of it all.

    Neither was it the momentary brain fart I had when I realized I was out of water and hardly able to move from the sofa.   It took me well over 20 minutes to move from my sofa to the fridge two days ago and when I realized there was nothing to drink whatsoever I was seriously considering taking a sip from the tap water – which is like playing Russian roulette with 5 bullets in the chamber.

    I stood there tapping my phone in my hand looking at my list of friends , none of whom actually reside in the city here , and considered calling on any one of you guys to come deliver water to me but I’m absolutely not the kind of person who wants to bother people to do something on my behalf.  However some eight hours later my body was telling me through all the other pain I was in that if I didn’t get some water in me soon things were going to get a whole lot worse.

    sick

     

    Moving my leg but an inch would cause me to scream so gutting out a walk over to 7 Eleven was out of the question.  I like to live a life of anonymity so asking the security guy downstairs was a no-go as well as the less people who know I exist the better .. call it an occupational hazard.

    Then it hit me , just order food and drink.  Honestly, had I not been in such delirious pain it would have been second nature to think of ordering from FoodPanda but I wasn’t able to think properly which perhaps may give you a sense of the degree of pain I am in.  Or perhaps not.

    problemsWhat I got from this experience is that there is a dignity that comes with suffering in silence.  My best high school friend may die soon , and she tells not a soul of her daily plight living with the leukemia that is draining the life out of her daily.  I talked only with her the day of my operation , she simply said to me “be strong, be quiet , you’ll survive.”  I most certainly wasn’t quiet, I screamed loud enough for the whole floor to hear while being cut open but that’s done with , I did indeed survive it.  Now as I sit here recovering , pain be dammed , I feel strong.

    I may lose many things in my life , but if I lose my dignity , my honor , then I am lost.

    … and I am far from being lost.

     

    xx

     

     

     

  • The Ralph Wiggum Effect

    The Ralph Wiggum Effect

    This is more a bit of friendly advice than a story intended for those who not only want to live here but are going to be raising kids here.

    Everything the baby hears should be in your mother tongue right from the day it’s born.  No exceptions.

    If the mom doesn’t speak your language , that’s fine , but make sure the television shows , the books , the YouTube videos and most importantly the school is subjecting your kid to your language 90% of the time.

    The result?  Well it’s like running a marathon.  Nobody is declared a champion after the first 500 meters and it’s not until the first 5km are over that you start to get some separation in the runners.

    Same goes with raising a kid , yes they might fall behind in my language in the first 4 years but guess where they live?  Guess what they’re going to hear every day of their lives , my language.  So if you trust in the kid’s ability to learn a language by osmosis , then by the time the kid is 10 years old , the child will be fluent in both languages.  What’s even cooler than that , is not only will the kid talk with you in an accent that’s a replica of the one spoken in your homeland , but they will have an exact replica of my language as well.

    It’ll freak you out.  You’ll hear your kid talk like they’re two different people , and it’ll make you proud to hear it.

    Here’s the hard part about what I just said … being able to execute your plan against popular consensus.  You’ll be pressured into letting these people force their ways onto you , don’t let them!

    Jaa’s son is in town and had dinner with him last night.   At one point during dinner while he was sucking on the lemon that came with my salmon steak I asked him wryly “are you the lemon?” thinking I was making a private joke to myself.

    He then sucked the last bit of juice from the lemon while climbing up and squatting on the chair as the people from the table beside us looked over disapprovingly.  He took the wedge out from his mouth , dropped it on the plate and when he crossed his arms he said “bitch please, squatting monkeys tell no lies.”

    ralphRude, bold , brazen ?  Yes to all.

    Funny as hell ?  Fuck ya.

    Sitting beside him was his slightly older 12yo buddy , who’s dad hadn’t followed the rules I just laid down for you up above.

    He reaches out his hand and after nearly spilling the glass bottle of water in doing so I asked him what it was he wanted and that I’d pass it to him.

    “I you butter i you can give me i want give ok” he said sounding slightly like a retarded child.  Fuck political correctness , I’m telling you that this blue eyed brown hair kid from Vancouver, Canada (by blood) couldn’t construct a kindergarten level sentence properly and sounded like an idiot trying to speak in his dad’s native tongue.

    “How the fuck can you let your son grow up talking like that?” I bluntly asked that kid’s dad , and a silence fell across the table.

    “Blubber blubber blah blech” his dad mumbled something defensive in return that showed how truly brainwashed he’d become in living here for the past decade.  Can’t deny the truth though.  Two kids sat at that table last night.  One can fit in anywhere in the world seamlessly.  The other is going to taking dicks up the ass ten times a day a few years out … if he doesn’t want to make $5 a day working with the rest of the denizens of similar language skills.

    I call it the Ralph Wiggum effect , don’t let it happen to your kid.

    xx

     

    [one_half][formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half] [one_half_last][formcrafts id=’20566′ name=’Session With Wael’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half_last]

     

     

     

  • A View To a Kill

    A View To a Kill

    If you don’t mind , I’m gonna talk about things that are in my thoughts even though they may be the furthest thing from anything to do with femdom.   I get a lot of “your blog’s been quiet” messages and it’s because , well , since my life got invaded last August , it was like a slap in the face about what I should share publicly (fuck i misspell that word every single time) and I decided to keep the blog entries bdsm session related for the most part.

    But, things are eating at me.

    Again, sorry to be esoteric , but those in my closed group of friends that I’ve done sessions with will recall the photos I sent you last month when I attended the double weddings of my friends I’ve known since high school back in the village.   Remember?  Alright, go dig that photo up, i’ll get back to it shortly.

    mount baturSo, I’m just back from Bali where I left at 4am to climb Mount Batur and see the sunrise from above the clouds at the edge of the volcano’s caldera.  As you can see from the photo, it was one of those moments one never forgets , the majestic view was awe inspiring , and as I posted on my Twitter , dampened only by having to share the experience with the 200 or so other people who made the climb with me.  When I saw the movie Everest , it never quite hit me how annoying it would be to have to share such an epic climbing experience with every Tom Dick and Harry who decided to climb alongside that day as well.  A moment like that, one craves to share it in solitude I think , something which is probably not possible in the Instagram era.

    222937As this furry friend stops just long enough to allow me to snap a photo of him on top of the world I thought about just how lucky I have been to be able to visit 10 countries so far and I’m only in my 20’s still.  I’d estimate that a scant .01% of any girl born and raised in a Thai slum village ever gets to Bangkok, making the idea of travelling outside a far fetched dream, yet there I was taking in a spectacular view and thinking how lucky I’ve been.

    Then it hit me like a Muay Thai liver shot (which i was on the receiving end of in my last training session) just how tragic the lives of my two best friends from high school have turned in the days since their weddings last month.

    One of them … the one on the right in the photo I told you to dig up … she never considered that three weeks after her missed period she might be pregnant , went to an amusement park in Bangkok and went for repeated rides on the roller coaster there.  Coming home, she began to bleed profusely , and only found out at the hospital later that night that she had suffered a miscarriage.

    Now on my Line App , we have a group of 5 high school friends who still talk to one another , a group that I normally have a hard time following due to the village type conversations that go on daily there , stuff like “what did you eat” , “who is so-and-so dating” , what happened on the soap operas today , yada yada yada.  When my friend posted a photo of her in the hospital recovering in sadness from her miscarriage , the second girlfriend … the one on the left in the photo … texted to the group … “you’re here too?”

    Translating loosely from Thai to English the conversation continued as such …

    “Yes”

    “Visiting who?”

    “No, I’m checked in”

    “Why what happened to you, why didn’t you tell us?”

    “I’ve been diagnosed with a cancer called Leukemia”

    And it hit me that in all likelihood she’ll never get a chance to to ascend a volcano and experience the type of view that was before me, and she the same age as me.   If you recall from one of my first entries, I had a co-worker who worked right beside me get stricken by cancer and gave up her life some 30 days later.  While that was shocking to me , it didn’t hurt so deep as this one hurts and suddenly all my personal troubles seem so tiny by comparison.

    So take a look at that photo if I’ve shared it with you , and realize that for whatever reason , out of the three , I’m the only one who has been spared a tragedy so far.  Gosh.

    kh xx

    [formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts]

     

    p.s:  i’m working on setting a newsletter up , one which people who have sessioned with me can subscribe to.  I’ll be sharing personal photos, videos, stories from that medium , and i’ll be test running it next week sometime ok.  🙂