Category: My Personality

  • Maybe.

    Maybe.

    Well, isn’t this fun?

    What cha’ doin’?   I’ve got my feet up  on  the sofa here sipping a cup of crappy insta-coffee,  the kind that  comes  in  packs of 3’s and leaves the taste buds a little unsatisfied  , know what I mean?   Got  my  laptop on – you  guess it – my  lap  , and until a few  minutes ago I didn’t  even realize  that I had  my right hand down  my sweats resting on  my  pussy.   I haven’t  showered  since yesterday and this is  the  third day I’m  wearing  these grey sweat pants  – but I have changed my panties daily ,  so at  least i’m somewhat kempt.

    That’s  how relaxed things are, and  you  know  what?   I’m quite enjoying myself and all this free  time.

    One  reason  is, I’m writing again , as you’ve no  doubt noticed by now.

    I  told Mistress Wael  earlier this week “hun, you always said you wanted  to learn to write better-  well  , here’s your chance – giftwrapped with the biggest yellow  ribbon  the  world’s ever  gonna give ya.” – unless ur waiting  for 100 yellow ribbons …

     

     

    We’re committed  to giving  you  guys a story a day , ready and posted by every morning Europe  time.

    Possible?  Well , to give  you an idea just  how  much time I have on my hands  … it’s 9:31 am the  day  BEFORE  this  story is gonna be posted.  Email was done 2  hours ago and for  the  first  time in years  – emails get answered  the  minute they come in because I’m so happy to talk to somebody.   Wael’s asked me  to design a store  page  for  her  videos so I’m  gonna work on  that later  this afternoon and  then I’ll probably get  started on  the next story that I  have swirling  in my head … the  one that’s not due  for  another 3 days.

    I love it!

    For the longest  time I was skeetering between happiness and  madness , trying  to balance the fun  of being  a Mistress  with the sessions and emails that  I couldn’t  keep  up  with.    Oh  sure I’d write  a  story, but when  I did I was always angry  because it was eating  into  what precious  little free  time I had  left.

    Now I feel  like there’s  been a huge weight  lifted off my shoulders and I can actually sit  down  and  do  the thing I love  the most  … writing!

    Several hours ago I looked up into  the tar black sky at 3am and saw thousands of stars twinkling over the eerie darkness of the city.   I’ve never  seen the city so dark in all my years here.

    Then  this  morning ,  right  in the  middle of “rush hour” I waltzed down my street here and walked right  in the middle of the empty road, and saw perhaps 20 people  outside  at  most.   I  felt like my dreams for a post Thanos society had come true , it felt eerie.

    Somebody messaged me on Twitter this morning  “stay safe, it’s getting worse.”

    Is it?

    Is 1/2 the world staying home and for the first time in forever – and spending quality family time something I’d call “getting worse?”

    Is having the entire world face the first crisis since World War 2 and realizing a sense of  global community and reponsibility so bad?

    Isn’t watching certain world leaders Like New York’s Cuomo and Canada’s Trudeau demonstrate true leadership a great thing ?

     

     

    The 36 minute,  50 second mark  is 5 agonizing but stoic seconds of silence that represents the greatest question of our time  … can the world’s population be trusted to voluntarily act responsibly?

    Because as of the moment I write this , China is the only  country in the world to have successfully flattened the curve , and the measures to achieve that were not voluntary.

    Nothing is inherently good or bad.

    Because  you  never know  what will  be the consequences of misfortune.  Or ,  you never know what will be the consequences of good fortune.

    Only our interpreation governs our perception.

    I’m sure you’ve heard the tale of the Chinese farmer.  If you haven’t,  have a listen,  it’s a tool I’ve used for many years  …

     

    https://youtu.be/byQrdnq7_H0

     

    For example, I  stopped looking  for  a place to move to.

    My lease ends in  5 days,  and my landlady has refused all along to renew for any term less than a year.

    Then covid hit hard and all my sessions got cancelled.

    Called her up today and she begged me to stay for one more month.  No prospective tenants left in the city you see.

    To celebrate I went for that walk I mentioned earlier this morning looking to buy bbq’d bananas from the lady who sells them at  the  top of the street.

    But she’s packed up and gone back to her family home up north I assume.

    So I went instead to the  supermarket and heard “Mistress?”

    Turned around to see a guy who I had to cancel the other day since I’m not doing sessions until the Covid threat has passed, but was told he was feeling sad as he’s stranded here with no flights back home available,  but seeing me at 8am made him so happy.

    To that,  we bumped elbows ,  tapped our shoes, had a good laugh …  and now I’m back home here writing to you guys , munching on banana chips instead.

    Has it been a good morning?

    Maybe.

     

    hot-elite-bdsm-mistress-jaa-bangkokYou see, I’ve been pondering how to make money through this world shutdown.

    Can tell you that I’m not keen on doing online sessions for two reasons.

    For one, they can be recorded and then posted all over the internet.

    Secondly, I just really enjoy face to face  encounters.  They’re real.

    It’s why I don’t  ever  communicate with texting apps , that’s not how real people communicate.

    You can probably vouch  for this … have you ever talked  to  a buddy and asked him or her  “hey have you talked to s0-and-so today?” and they’ll say  “ya, talked to him this morning,  he texted me.”

    Well they didn’t really talk, did they?    Not by my definition of talking anyways.

    I’m all  about making  guys’ knees go  weak  and knowing their heart is pounding as i pull them by the chin to  the  bedroom.

    If  I tried pulling you by the  chin in a video session  my  laptop would  crash to the floor.

    So I  came the conclusion  that  if I  am going to do an  online session  ,  its  gotta be with  the guys I know very well  ,  whom I’ve sesisoned with many times, and who I trust unequivocally.

    Also, the longest I can handle talking to a  monitor with no physical interaction is 30 minutes.  So that will be the  limit of  my longest session.

    Same as Mistress Wael’s prices,  30  mins would be 2k ,  15 mins would  be 1k  , and that’d be the minimum amount.

     

    She called me very early this morning,  Mistress Wael did.

    Her sister’s down syndrome medication has run out  and she’s unable  –  and/or unwilling to travel from her very rural and humble abode in the northern mountains down here to the big city to get her prescriptions.   Which is causing her to be suffering from chronic withdrawl symptoms and unbearable spinal pain.  Yet she won’t risk getting infected and doesn’t want to put others at risk for such a long trip, not that Wael can afford it anyways.   I was at her condo yesterday helping her shoot her video and heard her dad screaming at her when he called, blaming her for everything , incluuding her sister’s constant crying.  Geez.  I took the phone from her hands and shut it off,  then hugged her for a very long time.

    She said this is the worst of times and I said maybe.

    “What if your sister survives and finds out a  month down the road she doesn’t  need to take 100 pills a day” I asked her, all prescribed long ago by crooked doctors.  “What if  that allows her to  try medicinal marijuana instead, at 1/4 of the price?”  “And what if that cannibis pill lessened the neck pain from her twisted spine?” as I’ve been suggesting all along.

    And through choked back tears  she whispered “ya, maybe.”

     

    xx

     

    Book A Session

    Looking to book a session?  You can either email us :

    Mistress Jaa[email protected]

    Mistress Wael : [email protected]

    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.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • End Game

    End Game

    Two sessions and two Tinder dates in the past couple of months have ended in the movie theater – and by end I mean severence of relationship.

    What’s spectacular about that?  I didn’t end the relationship – the guy I was with did on all four occasions.

    The culpriit?  – The Avengers.

    More specifically , the last movie in the franchise – End Game , and the one that preceded it.

     

    Those who know me know very well my penchant for ending relationships cold turkey – like instantaneous cessation of dialogue for eternity.  It’s something that more than one guy has had a problem wrapping his head around – that lying in any shape or form means he’s cut off right there and then from knowing me.

    I’ve lived by a set of rules that simply raises the bar to very lofty levels of how I conduct myself in a relationship and more importantly … what conduct my partner (be he a submissive slave or lover) must adhere to.

    I’m in my 30’s now and I’m proud that I’ve never once cheated on a guy I’ve committed to.

    I’ve never lied to a guy I’m committed to.

    You’d think most guys would appreciate a girl like that, right?  So, why did 4  guys in a row walk out of a movie on me.  (Well , the 2 Tinder guys walked out , the 2 submissive guys on a Mistress as a GF date hung in there … and then cut relations via email later)

    Why?

     

    I mean, I have to salute the guys who walked out on me.  It takes quite a lot for a guy with a hard on , sitting beside the girl responsible for said hard on , to get up and have his dick lead him out of the movie theater like a magnet pulling him towards the planet’s true magnetic north.

    In all four instances , I was doing what I normally do at movies.

    Using subtle techniques to keep the guy’s mind divided from watching the film and focusing on me.  The majority of  guys who go see a movie with me can recollect very little of what went on in the movie’s plot line.

    That’s because I’ll constantly give them something to think about – albeit briefly.

    It could be something as simple as a proximity check … where I lean in close to his cheek so that my perfume becomes – for a moment – far more enticing than what’s on the silver screen.

    Or maybe it’s a press of my right hand on his inner thigh , and perhaps my baby finger lays ever so gently upon the dick inside his pants – as my left hand reaches over to borrow some of his popcorn – followed up by a devlish smile as I quickly retreat my hands to my own space and resume watching the movie as if nothing happened.

    On one Tinder date I physically grabbed him by his shirt and yanked him to me – sliding my tongue deep inside his mouth and biting his lip as I finished off a wet steamy impromptu kiss.  Then I gave his hardened dick a good squeeze from above his jeans and subsequently watched the rest of the movie whilst totally ignoring him for the remaining two hours.

    These create great “what the fuck” moments in the guy’s mind.

    But to pull them off … think about it … I have to have my mind invested in you … and not in the movie.

    Which is easy to do as 99% of the movies I go see were written by brainless muffinheads posing as screenwriters.  When I get easily bored, I love to entertain my Mistress personality by fucking with the mind of the guy I’m with to pass the time … make sense?

     

    But what happens when me and the movie I’m watching … “click”.

    “Click’ as in … I identify greatly with what’s going on in the film and the guy I’m with has all but disappeared in my mind.

     

    This is what happened in The Avengers : Infinity War  &  The Avengers : End Game.

    So, when you sign up for a Mistress as a Girlfriend session – you’re truly getting a peak into someone who’s mind doesn’t work like anyone else in the general population.

    But at least you’re aware that might be a possibility … imagine the poor Tinder guy who’s just biding time in the movie theater until he thinks he’s getting laid a few hours down the road.  What happens when he runs into a girl who’s thoughts are not-at-all mainstream and endevours to discuss such thoughts.

    Well, disaster happens, apparently.

     

    I cheered.

    Openly and loudly – in the movie theater – when The Avengers died at the end of Infinity War.

    I cheered , just as loudly , when HawkEye’s family disinigrated.  Actually it was a verbal “Fuck Ya” and clapping of my hands that riled the guys I was with.

    “Fucking Perfect” I said out loud.

    Which , on all four occasions was met with a slack jawed stare.

    To which you’re no doubt thinking “all four times?” … yes, all four times.  But it was the first time where my reaction was the strongest and most pure … the following three times – since I knew what was going to happen in the movie – were a mix of appreciation for the mass death scene and to see the guy’s reaction.

    Only if you’re a long time reader of my blog will you know about my disdain for humanity and my utter love for the pureness of animals.

    For those of you who are just recently following me …  let me get you up to speed.

    Long before people were aware of Thanos’s plan to wipe out half of humanity in the Universe , I was a strong supporter of this idea … even going so far as to make it the subject matter of my first ever Creative Writing project – one which I got a solid D on.  Since it’s impossible to get anything less than a B in school here (cuz bribe’s exist) I was absolutely flabbergasted that I could receive such a grade.   Apparently Aussies grade things relative to their educational value and not the bribe value, go figure eh.

    So this idea of ridding the planet of humans began in two places, the fist being this George Carlin interview which I saw here in University around when I was 20 years old …

     

    That video spawned the idea in my head of wiping out half the population even if that included me.

    Rather than develop the idea though I became fixated on what has to happen in a person’s life … how detached must they become from society  … to want to see such a thing happen.  I suppose I got caught up in the psychology behind the idea rather than taking the idea and run with it.

    But his thought process mirrored ‘the virus’ scene from The Matrix and how we’re nothing more than a disease , a plague that that Earth needs to endure until we die off …

     

    https://youtu.be/aezikcoCr4o

     

    I found throughout my 20’s that the more men lied to me , and the more I saw governments lie, and then in Africa when I saw poverty and starvation for the first time … I came back to this idea again and again that it’d be the greatest thing to survive a modern holocaust where half the people just vanished instantly.

    Well, until bears started trying to eat me …

     

     

    That line of his “that’s the scariest thing about life, is that dumb people are outbreeding smart people at a fucking staggering pace” … if you had been born and raised here … you’d wholeheartedly agree with that notion.

    More than that, you’d be fucking terrified that males here are allowed  to pro-create.

    Because the part where he acknowledges he’s stupid … but then says that he knows he’s smarter than everybody he meets.  Fuck, that’s so true with me living here.

    I just became so ‘done’ with people and their shit.  And their lies.  And their pursuit of money.  And their pursuit of lies to attain pussy.  And so on.

    Then, having missed all the Avengers movies I got dragged on a Tinder date to see Infinity War.

    Lo-and-behold , there’s this guy Thanos who sees the universe exactly as I see it … something that’s 50% too populated.

    And he has a solution that I whole heartedly agree with.

     

    So I sat up straight in the movie theater and for the first time in a very long time that movie had every second of  my undivided attention.

    But in the back of my mind … knowing this is a Disney enterprise , i kept thinking they’re going to water it down with yet another feel good sappy ending.

    Except , they didn’t.

    Fuck, the moment when Thanos reversed time and snatched that final gem out of that superhero dude’s head … was the greatest movie moment since Ned Stark’s beheading , and Darth telling Luke that he was Luke’s father.

    I cheered, and my jaw was gaped.

    Then , it got oh so much better when everybody started disintegrating into dust , it was glorious.

    I started clapping.

    Feverishly.

    “Holy fuck , wooooo” I yelled when the Black Panther died and then “noooo ,  not Groot”  (cuz I had bought a 3,000 baht Groot action figure) and then  “aww fuck it, Groot too , fuck ya!”

    Thor lived.  I could still fuck Thor, and my chances of banging him just went up 50% , fuck this is the greatest movie ever.

    I said that aloud, a bit too loud.

    “Why?”  my date asked, “because they’re dying?”

    “Fuck  ya, let ’em all die, it’s wonderful ,  it’s glorious” I said,  and I was in tears of joy when I said it to him.

    “What the fuck is wrong  with you” he said after a good minute of silence.

    “If you disintegrated like that, right now, I wouldn’t give a shit … just as I hope you wouldn’t give a shit about me going like that if I was on the other 50%”

     

    And with that comment, he up and left.

    To which I blocked him , deleted all the chats , and went back to revel in the shocking end to the movie.

    Then I invited another Tinder date to view Endgame with me.

    He thought I was crazy as well.

     

    But I honestly thought that two regular submissive guys who had been seeing me for over 2 years wouldn’t ever go so far as to end things with me.  But end things they did.

    And … it felt great.

    I think … I’m not sure really  … but I think its that I’m very much okay with being so ‘out there’ that even a submissive guy who’s been trained – by me  –  to put up with a lot … would say to himself that I’ve gone too far and crossed some sort of universally agreed upon moral line.

    Lately, I’ve gone back to that old George Carlin interview and across one snippet I hadn’t yet seen … the Jester-Philosopher-Poet part of the interview …

     

    The jester … is the Mistress in me 7 years ago just being a Mistress for the sake of being a Mistress because it matched my personality.

    The philosopher  … is the fundamental underlaying personality that I’ve come to appreciate more and more as I’ve aged out of my 20’s and into my 30’s.  I wasn’t just a Mistress , I evolved to representing a stance against mainstream thought and embraced what it meant to be a Mistress.

    The poet … is me now.  Or what I’m striving to become.   A singular entity that is so separated from the world that I just honestly don’t give a fuck about what anybody thinks about me.

    It’s why I can stand over a guy and piss in his mouth … and not feel even the slightest compassion when he’s choking on or gagging up my urine.

    It’s why I’m buying a super large cage for my next condo … because it’s simply where a man belongs.  Letting him out to sleep at my feet for a night … is much akin to taking a dog for a walk and buying it a juicy bone.  It’s a doggy treat.

    And  it’s not that men are dogs.  They aren’t.  To see one as such means the Mistress is still in the jester stage.

    Men are just an entity.  The poet part of the Mistress sees them as only that … a maleable piece of Play-Dough to shape as I wish.  And then perhaps to stomp flat and begin anew.

     

    That’s why I  don’t fall in love with men anymore.  That’s what society … a massive virus perpetually stuck in a Jester stage loop …  would have one believe is necessary.

    Love  … is a jester stage idealism.

    Male disposable fuck toy … is a poet’s ideology.

     

    My latest male disposable fuck toy told me he loves me last week , or that he’s fallen in love with me, can’t get me out of his mind , and wanted to know if there was a possibility of  “more.”

    I deleted him.   There’s no way he can contact me ever again ,  unless he decided to camp out in the lobby downstairs.

    I’m emotionless about it.  It’s a cock attached to an agreeable unit to my eyes  …  and will be replaced shortly as many such units exist.

    If he were one of  the 50% to die in the cleansing  .. I wouldn’t spend a single moments thought upon his disposal.

     

    Last night I  had this  guy’s  cock  in my hand , in my bedroom.

    I had told  him  at the start of the session that  if he uttered  even a single sound  the session would end immediately  and  he’d be  asked to leave.

    For nearly two hours I  dreamt.

    Because  the  silence felt like  the very brief  time I  worked as a masseuse , and similar to back then I’d  just  lose myself in  the silence while I  had to massage  the  guy  for  his  two hours.

    Except  this  time,  I  had his  tool  in my hand and  similar to how Wael  does  her  sessions,  I  just played with both  his cock and balls  endlessly watching my  hand  flow from one area  to the  next.

    I could feel its pulsing in my  hand when it  got too  close, and I could  feel  the balls  tighten  and tighten every passing  minute  until  the skin felt  like stretched  stone at the  end.

    But  I  wasn’t  focused on  that.

    I thought only about how as a masseuse I felt obliged to give pleasure , and how often last night I instead debated how to rob him of pleasure.

    Ordering silence was fun.

    Tickling his balls , daring him to laugh and end the session gave me even greater pleasure.

    But kicking his balls 10 seconds before he would have shot his load  … hearing him scream  in  agony …  and ordering him to  get dressed and leave … this was bliss.

    “pl….” he started to  say but I  stopped him with a  gesture of my  hand.

    “Say even  a  word,  and you won’t be able to see me again”  I said.  “Simply get dressed  , leave,  and  send me an  email apologizing for breaking the only rule I gave  you.”

     

    The entity left.  Silently.

    Obediently he sent me an email within the hour.

    Tonight’s the last night of my free one  week subscription to Disney +  ,  guess which movie I’m going to watch with him this evening here at home on this very couch … with his dick in my hand.

    I now want to see at what point men will forego their raging hard-on and feel my crossing of a socially accepted moral line needs to end his teasing session.

    lol.  I’m doing an experiment on men, the way a scientist would do experiements on lab rats.

    Sigh,  if I just had a fucking Infinity Glove I could reverse time every instance where he stands up naked and ends the session in a fit of rage.

    Then I could just tease him to greater and greater limits … until there’s one instance where he would just explode.

    Which , if I as a female version of Thanos  … is how in my End Game …  I’d finish off  1/2  the male population , haha.

     

    xx

     

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  • Goal Achievers

    Goal Achievers

    How did I get started as a Mistress?

    I get asked that a lot , especially recently as Twitter eclipsed the 4,000 follower plateau and searches for bdsm have brought in a plethora of new readers – I find in my emails lately a whole lot of  “getting to know you” type of questions.

    So I thought I’d shelve my thoughts on my recent European trip for a short while and instead spend a couple of stories at least bringing the new readers up to speed on just who I am and what it is Mistress Wael , Arita and I do in the realm of BDSM & Fendom.

    Starting with scratching your itch of knowing how I became “me.”

     

    Certainly, the seeds of rebellion were sewn back in school in Sydney , but that was just me acquiring ammunition to change my life for when I’d be sucked back into the dregs of humanity , ie: Bangkok.

    Ya there were times in my grade school days where I had flashes of rebellion … after all I did burn all my mom’s clothes , fart in my teacher’s face and sat on a girl’s face after winning a school yard fight … but those were just flashes.

    When we’re talking where and when did I actually start truly behaving like a Mistress there has to be an element of purposeful teasing involved in my actions, and that my good readers didn’t happen until my first job back in the city , fresh from living abroad , and hell bent on no longer wishing to act like the good Thai lady I was brought up to be.

     

    Ok when I say first job, technically I mean second.

    I’ll let you guess how many hours I survived working for a conglomorae insurance company , cold calling people and convincing them they needed life insurance – because ya , when the ppl I’m calling make $8 / day , buying insurance is the #1 priority on their minds.  Right?

    To be honest , the cold calling wasn’t the demise of my employment there , it was the constant ‘wai-ing’ at the water cooler, in the lunch room , in the hallway … and the incessant small talk about sweet fuck all that pushed me to walk down 8 flights of stairs and shit in the basement washroom just so I could avoid people.  Not to mention my supervisor was – and I shit you not – an exact female replicant of the boss from Office Space … right down to the pink coffee cup she carried around with her when peeking into my cubicle and asking about my sales speech patterns as pointed out in Chapter 39 of the company sales pitch course guide.

     

    When you’re guessing the time of my stay there , make sure you forward your guess in hours instead of days or weeks.

    I started on a Monday and it was a rainy Thursday afternoon that had me unemployed and all dolled up applying for a new job in the … well let’s call it the Movie & Television building on Asoke St.  Guys “in the know” , Thai and foreigner alike , will go fishing for girls there as there’s so many models , tv personalities , and actresses passing through the Starbucks on the bottom floor that even if you don’t catch a small mouthed bass , the assorted fish that pass by are worth the coffee it costs to sit and oogle.

    I was hardly good looking back then ,  so I didn’t get the job , but as fate would have it – a small printing / graphics shop on the ground floor had a window job posting for a girl who could speak English and all I had to do to be qualified was be able to liase with English speaking customers to grow their graphic design sales.  “Aha” I said, “I knew my year of Business English and Creative Writing would come in handy.”

    So for $8 a day my job was to flirt with the English speaking customers – of which there were many – and get them to use the shop’s various printing and design services.  Easy peasy.  You couldn’t tailor design a better job for me.

    As far as my graphic design skills go … well I can draw stick men pretty good , but anything beyond that, nash, nope, nada.

    Didn’t matter, the Thai speaking guys I worked with were great at what they did on the computer – but more so than that – they were head over heels in lust with me so I was very influential on what I could get them to do.

     

    chicklets mr wilson dennis the menaceSo one day in walks this half Thai – half American guy in his late 30’s named Pat… more of an American name than Thai, and so I got the feeling right away he was raised in the US and fate had brought him back to where he was born somehow.

    If I say the name Anthony Robbins to you , or … ‘former backpacker turned Meditation student who’s recently been enlightened as to how the universe works and wants to forcefully share his newfound knowledge upon you whether you want to hear it or not’ … that kind of guy , does it burn an image in your head?

    I hate those kinds of guys.

    Namely because they’ve stopped listening to anything anyone says and instead are chomping at the bit for a break in any conversation so they can talk about whatever promotes themselves.

    This is what this guy Pat who had walked into the print shop was like.  A self promoted salesman peddling self made bullshit through and through.

    These guys are all the same.

    Self made website promoting their enlightement product?  Check.

    Gaudy and fake testimonials saturated on said website?  Check.

    A Mr.Wilson chicklet sized smile whenever he speaks?  Check.

    Lucky for me … any fool like this still has a dick.

     

    His idea to enlighten the world?

    Goal Achievers.

    A website , a course , a mantra to embrace , a way of life … all centered around on “achieving unbelievable but attainable goals in one’s life” just by thinking “outside the box.”

    Holy shit, the number of times that joker said “outside the box” while actually making a square in the air with his fingers , it was uncountable.

    Anyways, what did he want?

    He wanted us , the shop , to produce not just a logo for his site, but ‘inspiring art that promoted outside the box thinking.”

    Strange that a person who’s sudden life mantra was all about thinking outside the box , complete with a finger drawn air box to boot … couldn’t himself conjure up one single outside the box thought on his own.  But I digress.

     

    Such an absurd idea deserves an equally absurd logo , and by extension – website theme.

    And right there and then all these absurd ideas started flowing into my mind which I drew up on paper and had Hewey and Dewey (fuck if I can remember their names) refine my ideas and colourize them with Adobe Illustrator.

    Five days later Mr Pat walks back into the shop and I danced over to him lightly on my toes and dragged him behind the partition to the computer area by way of tugging on his arm.

    Nowadays I’d say that was a planned tactic at breaking through a man’s initial wall as touch , however incidental , is the greatest breaker of barriers among interactions with the opposite sex.

    But I was 20’ish at the time and quite naive , so we’ll just put the move off as accidental.

     

    hydranthumpNow mind you, Hewey and Dewey had a few de facto logo’s that they had designed at the ready … but it was my show as the customer only wished to speak English and in particular … only to me.

    So without any shame I presented to him my premier idea for his Goal Achievers logo … the fire hydrant fucking a dog idea that you see to your present left.

    He wanted to be mad , but I was smiling too much.

    When he first wanted to speak I pursed my lips , flipped my hair over my shoulder and said simply “good huh?”

    “Good how?  In what way does a fire hydrant fucking a dog represent anything I told you about Goal Achievers?”

    “Think about it” I said.

    “You spend the better part of your life getting peed on by someone.  What’s the best way to get revenge?  That’s right.  Non-consensual sex” I said matter-of-factly.  “and THAT … is thinking outside the box” (I made sure to draw my own air box with my fingers as I said it)

     

    Naaa … he wasn’t amused.

     

    Mistress Lips“You don’t like the idea” I said , “but it’s like doing a reverse plank , nobody at my gym thought of it either until I started doing it , and now everybody does it.”

    Here’s the thing about that line … I remember I said exactly those words and I remember the reason why … I needed an excuse to make his dick hard right there in the store … even with Huey and Dewey sitting a few feet behind me.  (My boss and his sister … also a manager , were out for the afternoon)

    Right then and there , that was the first intentional use of teasing that I can remember … in a workplace nonetheless … that began the process of me honing my bold and seductive ways.

    Luckily he bit the bait “What’s a reverse plank?”

    “Something you can’t do” I replied … slapping him with somewhat of a dare.

    So for you guys, a reverse plank is simply a way for me to arch my hips into the air and stretch out my breasts with an arch so that he can almost see half way down my bra.

    All that disguised as an exercise that works … absolutely no muscle that I can think of , so its really a redundant exercise.

    It sure works the cock muscle though.  That I can vouch for.

     

    Mr.Pat was noticeably carrying a third stick in his pants watching me do my reverse plank on the floor at his feet.

    Then I got this great idea in my head … fuck it’s funny how I remember this as I’m typing it like it was just yesterday.  I flipped over and did a normal plank which works the abs.

    “Do you know how strong my abs are?” I asked him.

    “How?” he replied.

    “Strong enough that I can hold this position long after you’ve stopped staring at my ass” and I whipped a glance around behind me so quick as to catch him indeed staring at my ass crack.

    He laughed it off , the fact that I caught him staring put him on the defensive.

    I stood up and while brushing my hair over my shoulders asked him non-chalantly said “it’s ok , every guy looks at my ass like that.”

    “And you see …” I continued as I walked up to the partition separating us and leaned into him “my goal was to get you to stare at my ass and simultaneouly make your dick hard.”

    I winked at him “I’m a Goal Achiever” … and I drew the air square with my index fingers “thinking outside the box.”

     

    I can tell you this with absolute certainty.

    He may not have thought my fire hydrant idea was comedy gold … which it was.

    He may not have even liked the real logo designed by Huey and Dewey which was at the top of the fire hydrant idea.

    But Mr.Pat was a customer for life.

    Or well, as long as I was working there he was.

     

    Mr.Pat became one of that store’s best customers as we did all his brochures , business cards , posters , pamphlets and the like.

    Hell he didn’t even notice that I had photoshopped Osama Bin Laden into his pupils on his business card , he was far too smitten by me.

    Every time he’d come to the shop I’d have another Goal Achievers “outside the box” idea for him to consider … courtesy of my college friends who took the idea and ran with it on our Facebook group chat ….

     

    [carousel width=”500″ height=”600″ source=”{s:goal-achievers}” nav=”true” circular=”true”] [/carousel]

     

    Eventually, my posters made him smile.

    Then one time when I had been too busy to draw an idea up for him he was genuinely disappointed.

    Every time he’d come into the shop he’d ask me out to lunch , dinner or a movie … every time.  And I’d always refuse him saying I was too busy but ‘maybe next time.’

     

    You see, for as long as Mr.Pat … and others … there were many others (but none so intimate as Mr.Pat) would make a point of using the shop … my job was secure.

    What I was learning was flirtatious acts … even in a sterile workplace would bring revenue.  It’s just that at the time I wasn’t the beneficiary of the revenue boost.

    I can’t even put that job on a resume … my bosses tolerated me only insomuch as I generated unexpected profit for them.

    But make no mistake, even today, a decade later they’d trash talk me behind my back to anyone who called them for a reference.

    Who would call them though?  For all I know my manager thinks I’m still navagating the seven seas thanks to my quite famous resignation letter … one that countless other people on the internet have since copied and claimed as their own.  Sad but, whatever.

    In military terms I “acted in a way unbecoming an officer” or in this case, ‘unbecoming a normal Thai citizen.’  (read: i’m not brainwashed)

    Anyways, I’m glad I’ll never have to conjure up bullshit from my life to make me look good on a resume.  I hate bullshit.

     

    I pity the grunts out there who would turn what I did in that employment stretch into a resume as such:

    – Acted as an English speaking liason between customer and the management for the purposes of generating graphic design business.

    – Successfully increased store revenue 200% by implementing strategic measures that the store continues to act upon.

     

    Fuck that.  Know what my resume would look like?

     

    – Played to perfection the role of the super hot store clerk that masterfully used flirtation to drain customers of their cash for services they didn’t really need.

    – Created a recurring revenue stream by making customers ‘need’ to come back for more business only because it gave them a chance to secure a date with me.

     

    Hmm, now 10 years down the road … what kind of work environment would a girl like me be able to use such skills to my advantage?

     

    That’s right !

    Just had to think “outside the box” a little to find my true calling 🙂

     

    xx

     

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  • Europe Bound

    Europe Bound

    T’was the night before Europe

    and all through the place

    this Mistress was packing, with remarkable haste.

    The chastity’s were hung,  by the chimney with care

    In the hopes a good slave would lock him self there.

    Bondage ropes were nestled tucked under the bed

    While visions of Swiss egg nog danced in my head.

    But I caught a sound with my ears and turned right around

    Through the garbage chute St Nick came with a bound.

    He was dressed in all latex from his head to his toes

    And for daring to enter I clutched him by his nose.

    From the bundle of toys that was flung on his back

    I whipped out a paddle and gave him a smack.

    His mouth how it cried , yelping out oh brother.

    His ass cheeks turned rosey, as he called for his mother.

    His cute little jingle balls chimed in with fear

    As I stuffed my dirty panties into his mouth thru his beard

    He had a broad jolly face and a little round belly

    That shook while I banged him , like a bowl full of jelly.

    He was chubby and plump , a right jolly old elf

    And I laughed when I told him to cum on himself.

    A wince of his eye whilst he choked off his head

    Soon he begged me to cum and  I said go ahead.

    He spoke not a word but went straight to work

    and dripped on my stockings as he continued to jerk

    When he was done up the chute he rose

    and avoided the smell by plugging his nose.

    He sprung to his sleigh while clutching his balls

    And looking back down hollared ‘i’ll give you a call’

    I’m sure he heard me exclaim as he drove out of sight

    Merry Christmas Slave Santa, and to all a good night.

     

     

    nude mistress jaa femdom bdsm bangkokThat’s a wrap for me guys,  I’m off to Europe Friday morning.

    Mistress Wael is holding down the fort while I’m away , I expect I’ll be back sometime around mid January.

    No sessions while I’m in Europe this time , just doing the original one over the holidays and then I’ll probably travel around with my gf or alone for a while.

    I have some unfinished stories that I’ll finish writing today and then package nicely for Mistress Wael to post them at her leisure along with her own blog entries.

    Take care guys, happy holidays to you all.  See you in the new year.

     

    xx

     

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  • A Woman’s Search For Meaning

    A Woman’s Search For Meaning

    “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.

    Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

     

    [one_third]

    Those words of wisdom written by Viktor Frankl have always inspired me.

    Indeed, I noticed  that I have been changing myself as a response to the situation I find myself in as a popular femdom Mistress who increasingly feels trapped.

    Some of my more astute followers amazingly sniffed out that the inspiration for my Orphanage Volunteer Twitter post came from both Viktor Frankl and Anne Frank.  I’m impressed.

    I appreciate the concerns some of you have with my recent writings , but please understand that I’m not on a collision course with the universe.

    Instead : I’m just trying to find out where this damn path that nobody else has walked leads to.

    [/one_third] [two_third_last]

    [/two_third_last]

     

    Consider:

    PM
    Dec 8, 2019, 6:40 AM (1 day ago)

    to me

    Another great read by the Mistress of the short story! I must say though , all of your recent stories seem to have a cry for help as a constant theme?
    As much as I love your insights into the male and female psyche, I do get concerned when I see someone on a seemingly self destructive path.
    I just get the impression it isn’t going to end well.
    Why do I take the time and write this ? I don’t really know . We only sessioned once or twice, with a couple more near misses , I have  really come to enjoy your writing.
    As someone who is a bit too self reflective at  times  and an avid people watcher , I really do admire your perception and extreme honesty. Your insights set me thinking and fill in gaps in my own awareness and I can only thank you for that . 99% of people walk around in a haze , unaware of what is really going on around them . They remind me of the people in the film “They Live”, a masterpiece of satire by John Carpenter .

     

    they liveNo doubt , They Live was a masterpiece and had one of , if not the greatest fight scenes ever.

    But I don’t need a special pair of glasses to see the truth of my environment and those encompassing it.

    My readings of my two favourite books  A Man’s Search for Meaning and The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank have forever put adversity in great context for me.

    So no , I’m not on a self destructive path.

    But you just simply can’t kick guys in the balls for 10 years, feed them squished food from the bottom of my feet whilst tied to my kitchen table , feed them my pee …. and expect me to see men the same way any of my high school girlfriends do.

    Especially being brought up in a sub-servient culture where men are revered as the bread winners of the family and us girls have been taught since birth that our lot in life was to “take care” of the man who chooses us.

    Some would say that what I’ve gone through  is a 180 degree change of perspective.  Or maybe it’d be coined as “a point of view that’s been flipped upside down”

    No.  No man.

    It’s not even the same dimension what I’ve been through.  It’s not even a parallel universe.

    It’s like that feeling when you get high and you just see space and time as something nobody who’s been high could ever understand.

    I see men differently.  I see relationships differently.  I see love differently.

    And since at the heart of all this , I’m just a girl making her way through a life that she was mistakenly born into … I’m trying to make sense of where this is all going.

    Except you guys get to read all of it like you’re living inside my head and trying to figure this all out with me.

    Let me ask you this … how did your day go today dear?   We’re boyfriend girlfriend for this instant ok … and you’ve just come to meet me at Starbucks for a late night cappucino and we’re discussing our days.  What would you tell me about your day?

    Ok.

    My turn.

     

    Oh honey, I had the strangest of days.  Got the news from the doctor that I have to go in again for another operation when I get back from Europe to remove more potentially dangerous cysts.  But whilst I was there I saw a girl who looked so much like me I had to do a double take , only she had these wonderful breasts that definitely distinguished herself from me and I made the decision right there that the same day I get the cysts removed I’m also going for a breast augmentation of my own.

    Why?

    Well because honey , what 10 years of being a Mistress has taught me is that the more gorgeous I am , the more men will grovel at my feet.

    With curves up top to match the curves of my ass , there’s nothing I can’t make a man do for me and my ascent to being one of the top Mistress not just in Asia but the world would be well within my grasp.

    ballbusting boots jaa4u femdomHere babe , look at these boots Ray ordered for me.

    Yes that Ray , the guy who wants me to destroy his testicles with copious amounts of blood next month when I get back.

    See how sharp those spikes are babe?  How many kicks would it take with those spikes to get him to surrender?  Fuck I should book my Muay Thai trainer for another week of kicking technique to sharpen my striking ability a bit more.

    What’s that?

    Oh my session?  Ya it was fine.  Bit cold to go running though.

    Took him for a walk in the park and made him sit under a tree while I went for my hour long run and made him lick the sweat off my feet every few laps.   Was a good time to do it as the cold is keeping people away from the park , the place was damn near empty.

    Ya I agree, wouldn’t dare do that in the summer.

    The late session?

    Oh that’s why I ordered this Ice Cappucino , the cold glass is soothing my hand.  I face slapped the guy for 30 minutes straight because he kept moaning without permission when I fucked his ass with that new 12 inch super thick dildo I bought last week in Singapore.

    I don’t know what’s redder , or what hurts more .. my hand or his face.

    Anyways, I made him suck the dildo clean and tossed it in the sink , I gotta boil it to steralize the damn thing already when I get home.

    So how was your day again?  Ah you had an office meeting again huh?

    Did you get those TPS reports finished?  Good good.

    Ok babe, gotta run , have a good evening, meet tomorrow for lunch ok?

     

    See?

    That’s a typical day for me.

    Your typical day is dealing with the assholeness of your boss and pining over the new secretary she hired.

    So you can’t in any way shape or form have even an inkling of a clue of where my head is at … unless of course you read my blog.

    That’s what’s so unique about this whole thing though, you get to go on the craziest roller coaster ride out there … the inner thougths of a Mistress’s mind.

     

    Damn that Tinder story irked a lot of people.

    line blockedI ended up blocking 185 out of the 200 guys who originally passed the initial test to get my Line Id.

    Which drove this bitch to tee off on me …

    “You sound like you’re turning into a sociopath and referring to it as being a “mistress”

    Keep in mind he introduced himself as:

    Introduce Yourself : First name , age and where you’re from :  Ngar, 12, Kings Landing

    Imagine that , a guy who calls himself Nigger but doesn’t have the balls to actually spell out the entire name — calling me a “sociopath” .

    Funny thing is , once cock blocked 185 out of the 200 guys ended up making comments just like this whacko did.

    It just pisses guys like him off to no end that not only can I see through their transparent personality , but that the guys who do make it through the door ….

    … are getting drilled up the asshole by my strap on and slapped in the face continually for 30 minutes … and are saying “Thank You Mistress” for pissing me off.  🙂

     

    I suppose I shouldn’t tell him about the piss basin I’m going to be soaking my feet in tomorrow before heading out for a foot worshipping sessions that may just leave an unpleasent aftertaste swirling in the mouth. 😛

    Speaking of pissing people off , I was having a pleasant dinner date last weekend when the guy out of the blue remarked that I had the most wonderful set of lips.

    “That was random” I remarked.  After all ,we had just finished talking about Puffin’s and Icebergs off the coast of Newfoundland for 10 minutes , so I’m guessing segue’s aren’t his forte.

    “It’s just … I can’t stop thinking how soft those lips are to kiss”

    To which I simply replied as a joke “Well I don’t kiss on a first date so you’ll be waiting a while, and I don’t ever suck dick so maybe you’d be better off focusing on other parts of me.”

    Meaning , my mind , my conversational pieces when referring to ‘other parts of me.’

    So he had  an option to get the conversation back on the rails , or he could have apologized , or he could have said something funny back.

    Nope.  He chose “you don’t suck dick?”  Like, … ever?”  as his chosen reply.

    Mistress LipsI licked my lips so they were glistening and moist , then purposely leaned close to him so he could smell the mintiness of my breath and clearly but slowly mouthed the word “E V E R”

    “What a waste.”  he remarked as if that was something totally ok to say at a 5 star Italian restaurant on a first encounter with a girl he’d just met.

    So out goes the normal girl personality , in through the window comes the Mistress fall back personality , totally uninvited but necessarily so and I reply with …

    “Well there is only one circumstance where I would suck a guy off and even swallow.”

    “What’s that?” he asked suddenly re-engaged in the conversation.

    “It’d be after we’re married … and I’ve tied you to the bed for the fist time in the honeymoon suite so you can’t move … and then I’d cuckold you and suck a much better lover , the one I’d be sucking though our entire marriage , while you’re my bitch tied to the bed watching.”

    “Good luck finidng a guy like that” he said smugly after he had sat back in initial shock at my retort.

    Good luck with what?  Finding a single guy like that?

    Why darling …. I have thousands waiting for such an opportunity 🙂

    That’s what I thought to say anyways , never came out though.

    Well, never had a chance, I’d already walked out leaving him with the bill.

    That dinner wrapped up a typical week for me.  10 amazing sessions and another blown date.

    Oh well 10 more days and I get to go “home” …

     

    SK
    Dec 9, 2019, 3:35 AM (20 hours ago)
    to me

    Dear      y,

    You are multi-talented, strong and determined.  Europe is fortunate to welcome you “home for the holidays.”  I’m sure you will continue to enjoy success and ever-growing popularity.

     

    Those of you who are fans of Netflix’s Stranger Things , this country is indeed the Upside Down … and Europe for me at least is the Right Side Up … the normal world.

    And I can’t wait to get home for the holidays.

    And half of January thereafter.

    Fuck it , I might just stay this time.

     

    xx

     

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  • on BDSM … | A FemDom Poem

    on BDSM … | A FemDom Poem

    Our sexual Dreams – like life , are finite …

    Bounded by our time on this planet,.  Societal rules.  And measurements.

    It’s where we must lean on a Mistress for support.

    Where we rejoice in each other’s fantasies.

    Where we share lessons about our perceived place in the world.

    Together we increase compassion through the mirror of each session’s mixed results.

    A man and his mistress … their character revealed.

    for nothing goes according to plan

    Asia's-Hottest-Mistress in Madrid Spain January 2020Getting older is wonderful … and terrible.   Triumphant … and heartbreaking.

    Our identity is formulated in failures.

    Fall seven times?  Get up eight.

    Thus in the face of certain weakness before me , will you maintain the struggle?

    Can you lift a memory from our session?

    It’s impossible to chase a dream , but it is possible … to catch one.

    Once you embrace the things that scare you just a little , you start to believe.

    And belief lifts courage.

    If you give yourself over to a Mistress you’ve learned to love

    and see femdom for something more than the dungeons and toys in the shadows

    you’ll come into the light

    and get to know something that IS worthwhile …

    Yourself.

     

    xx

     

     

     

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  • bdsm Emails | An Introspective

    bdsm Emails | An Introspective

    Since my blog is a conduit into the thoughts of your Mistress , I thought that in lieu of an official story you’d enjoy a peak into some of my email correspondance , as the first thoughts which pass through my mind after reading a fresh session request are some of the purest.

    So how do I actually follow through on emails?  Perhaps we’ll start there.

    I read it , usually while sipping on “morning” coffee which for me remember is mid afternoon right after I’ve woken up.

    Usually my legs are propped up on my bed under a pillow while my weary arm is draped over the headboard and i’m grabbbing the first sip of my Nescafe instant roasted blend.

    I won’t actually reply to it right away , instead I’ll mark it as unread and make a mental note to come back to it later after I’ve read the rest of the literature waiting on my in box.

     

    When the time comes to reply I’ll think “what’s motivating this guy to write to me?” and I’ll go back over the email and look for the clues.

    Then if I can , I close my eyes and try to walk a mile in this guy’s shoes only through the words he’s written me.

    I’m trying to imagine where he’s from , what his life is possibly like, how he’s tried to live out some of these caged fantasies before … ya I’m grabbing at straws , I realize that , but it’s more for putting me in the mindset of caring about how valuable this guy’s time is and appreciating that he spent some of it writing me.

    Why might I do that?  As hokey as it sounds, right?

    Because if I don’t understand you , I could have all the beauty in the world, I’m just not going to connect with you mentally , right?

    This is why email are fucking exhausting to do, especially when I wake up and see an ungodly number like 33 sitting in my unread inbox.

     

    There’s no quick auto replies or half hearted attempts at responding to a person’s deepest fantasy.

    Each time I press send I know I’m either going to hit the nail right on the head and tap into his soul , or I’m going to fail spectacularly.

    … and fail I do.  Often.

    That’s because when my fingers begin to fly over the keyboard I let my thoughts flow freely , and that sometimes gets me into trouble.

    Like, I can be snarky , I can be witty , I can be sarcastic … a whole bunch of things the guy wasn’t expecting and quite possibly be turned off by it.

    But like it or not, he’s getting a taste … immediately … of my personality.

    There’s no filter between my brain and my mouth , and well , that’s probably why I’m in my 30’s now and still single.

     

    So say we begin with this guy and his request.  I’ll crop it such that you can see a bit of my reply to him so you know it matches with my true response.

     

     

    ballbusting extreme session femdom“Yes it’s possible to do such an extreme session  , I don’t particularly enjoy them to be honest , but I do them if it is indeed the man’s true fantasy to experience such a thing.

    I’m in the business of fulfilling fantasies , most of which are much more tame … guys asking for the orgasm of their life … that sort of stuff.

    Every once in a while though, comes an email like this where the guy has a special fantasy that is very far away from mainstream.

    Truth be told, most of these types of letters , though exciting , will never be acted upon by the writer … as the pain in real life is a far different beast than the pain imagined … and often masturbated over.

    It’s like for example, guys asking me or begging me to be their toilet.

    There’s that moment where my ass is hovered above them and begins to open that they truly question why they decided to follow through on something they’ve jacked off over a million times in bed before sleep.

    I’d think that a full force ballbusting session is along the same lines.

    I’ve met only a couple , and by couple I mean 3 … guys who said they could handle a full force ball busting session and have indeed followed through on it … remarkably.

    Truly, their ability to withstand pain is jaw dropping.  They were fun sessions.

    But I ask you , is this truly something you wish to do ; or perhaps ; is this something that is better left for your right hand to take care of whilst you dream about doing it under the sheets?

    Mistress R…..”

     

     

    In that reply, I’m just being honest, drawing upon past experiences , most of which have just been about 1000 emails or so wasting time with someone I know who’ll never book.

    Why waste all that time?

    Meh, it’s just extracting information , learning about a particular fetish.  Any reply is a window into a man’s mind and the more thoughts I can extract from him the better I am for it in the future.

    At least some guys are talkative.  What really pisses me off are guys like this next one who took all of 5 seconds to fill out the form.

    I should just delete such requests, but the smart ass in my can’t just leave it alone and so … you get replies like this out of me …

     

     

    femdom session requestIf this is indeed an honest session request , one that you wish for me to take seriously ; you’re going to have to put in a bit of legwork on your end to introduce yourself and talk briefly about some of the things that interest you.

    For example, in the photo i’m including down below, notice how there has been an email thread that stretches back to January of 42 emails in total going back and forth.

    That all started when his first email , unlike yours , had an entire paragraph written to say hello and introduce himself a bit to me.

    So please, take a moment , think about your fantasies , about who you are , and what you’d like for a session … and articulate those thoughts to me via some written prose.

    Mistress R….

     

     

    There, like a peacock spreading it’s tail proudly , I’m cooing about just one of the many email threads I have with guys that span over a time of months and sometimes years.

    When you take the time to walk a mile in someone’s shoes, sometimes – but not always – they return the effort by revealing more of themselves to me , and over time I in essence become somehat of a psychological therapist for them.

    Crazy thing to say huh?  But it’s true, and I still scratch my head at times wondering how it always plays out like this.

    I have 100’s of guys who’ll session with me just once or twice a year , but in between we’ll talk about stuff he wouldn’t dare tell his closest friend let alone his therapist.

    This is why email is the living hell I love to bitch and complain about at times, but truly – deep down – I love it and it’s the best part about being a lifestyle Mistress.

     

    strapon-femdom-mistress-jaa-bangkok

     

    I can talk a guy through a divorce, a death in the family or a long standing illness … and then he’ll drop by the city and I’ll shove a tampon up his ass with my dildo while making him lick up chocolate I’ve drooled onto the dirty living room floor.

    … and then a week after we’re back talking about how much he wants to strangle the neighbour’s parakeet ‘cuz it keeps him awake all night.

    Thing is , you don’t marry your therapist right?

    So I’m single , gonna be forever , I’ve come to terms with that.

    My life is about making other’s lives a tiny bit better , something that Mistress Wael has been harping on me to accept like she’s done for a long time.

    We have an obligation to ouselves to foster the environment that leads to our self-actualization.

    Rather than having guys serve me, I must first serve them.

    Which begins the moment I put pen to paper – or finger to a keyboard , as it were.

     

    xx

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • ‘Round ‘Round the World

    ‘Round ‘Round the World

    It was a rainy Sunday morning if I recall correctly , I was nine years old at the time, and there I was huddled up with a blanket in the left corner of my small shoebox sized bedroom to get away from the water leaking in from the roof as it always did every rainstorm.

    Dad was downstairs already yelling and screaming at my mom for one of the last times before he took off forever while outside of my tiny window sounds of my idiot neighbour slurring his drunken words were being drowned out by the 8am droning of the neighbourhood military like speakers strung high a top the telephone poles reminding us to ’embrace the poverty and find happiness in being poor’.

    It was the speakers I hated most as a kid.  You couldn’t avoid the message of the ‘thought police’ every morning , 8am sharp.

    mistress's shanty-homeOh sure the guy in the shack down at the end of the water logged soi speaking into the microphone would also remind us what day it was , what time the local medical clinic would open , and so on.

    But sure enough , at the end of his long winded diatribe he’d go on endlessly reading from a prepared script basically telling us to willfully accept our lot in life.

    One of the miracles of my childhood was that the people living on my soi had long since bribed the cable guy to hook the street up with basic cable television , and as part of my daily rebellion against the thought police I’d lay on the floor in front of my tiny tv pushing my nose almost right up to the screen so that the volume would somewhat drown out the obtrusive rhetoric from outside.

    Every morning at 8am , for a while at least , Animal Planet would play a wonderful commercial that I’d sing along with out loud …

     

     

    That song was more than my morning national anthum.

    It was my motto for life , my inspiration if you will.

    Every morning when the country would come to a halt and sing the anthum … I’d sing ‘Round ‘Round the World.

    And why not?  That commercial had all my hopes and dream wrapped up in a one minute song.  I wanted nothing more than to go ’round ’round the world and not only see but do the things I saw glimpses of in that commercial.

    mistress snorkelling in GreeceFor instance, snorkelling.  There’s a brief shot of a couple diving along a coral reef.  I didn’t know the first thing about snorkelling or scuba diving at the time, but it inspired me so much that I couldn’t resist talking about it to anyone who’d listen that I would one day dive underwater like them.

    Beside us lived this old hag , I saw her as somewhat of a witch , and god damn she hated me.  She’d sit outside her shanty holding her bamboo cane and every single time she’d reckon I was within hearing distance she’d look at me with that disgusted look on her face she always wore and would say “กบในกะลาครอบ”

    It translates to English as : Frog underneath a coconut shell.

    Basically it’s a petty insult thrown my way saying that I’m just a stupid little girl with no experience or knowledge of the world yet I think I’m wise.

    To be clear, I never thought of myself as wise ,  i did however consider myself to be destined for somewhere or something else.

    As we’re taught to not argue with those older than us we’d simply have the same conversation a million times.  I’d simply tell her “it’ll happen , I’m not meant for this kind of life” , and she’d respond by saying “you’ll die trying, and I’ll still be sitting here – laughing.”

    Due to that ever repeating conversation , the merciless hag is 100 years old now and still refuses to die , just to spite me presumably.  That’s because every time I go home to see my mom  in her newly built modern home – raised high above the neighbourig hag’s abode so as to avoid the flood waters – I make sure to bark out the number of countries I’ve now seen.

    Last time I was there I found her in the same rickety old chair and as she scowled over at me I said with a smile “24 !!  Schwein haben” and then I’d take a step closer to her and say it again , a little bit slower this time “schwein haben … means lucky pig … learned that in Germany … my 24th country”

    That bitch can swear, I’ll give her that.

    Every time I go home I set her foul mouth off like a bomb when I update her on the frog’s progress of worldly travels.

    So as I sit here in the jacuzzi of my pricey Greek villa , sipping on a glass of white wine that my male servant has just poured for me – I think happily of  the profanity ridden rant that hag will go on when I soon tell her “den xéro tin típhla mou … & 26″ or literally , I’m blind and I don’t know anything.

     

     

    Imagine that, a frog that can speak a bit of Greek  (not to mention German, Italian, French and so on) … oh and can count too ….

    … all the way up to #26

    And I’m not done yet.

     

    xx

     

     

     

     

     

  • A New Direction

    A New Direction

    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.

    overloaded uhaulJust 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?”

    apples and applesHis 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!”

    excellent bill & tedAh 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.”

    painted feetTo 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.

     

     

    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.

     

     

    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.

     

    xx

     

    [gravityform id=”2″ title=”true” description=”true”]

     

     

     

     

     

    [gravityform id=”1″ title=”true” description=”true”]

     

     

  • 21 Thoughts

    21 Thoughts

    Seemingly for over a month I can’t find it within me to construct a story that’s worth writing let alone reading.   The roots of the problem no doubt can be traced  back to these bouts of self inspection, depression and goal-less-ness that I’ve been plagued with from about October onward ’til now.

    That’s not to say however that I haven’t  had some great thoughts pass through my mind.  My phone and  my laptop have a notes section which  gets filled with random  thoughts, memories,  recordings and  the occasional video – and it’s from these that in the past , when allowed to  marinade like a good steak in the fridge , produce some fine story lines.

    So since that hasn’t been the case , it occurred to me tonight that  perhaps you’d might find it comical if not  somewhat fascinating  to see what my mind  has  fixated upon  at different points  over the past thirty days.

    Thus, with no  further adieu  , here’s either a ‘one and  done’ or ‘the first of many’ 21 of my most recent random thoughts :

     

    1. Penny Lane.  It’s long been a quirk of mine to have a list of things  “I absolutely have to do before I get old”  and it’s led to some pretty knee knocking “what the fuck am I doing” moments trying to fulfil them.   For instance, the moment the instructor beside me was yelling  3 .. 2 … 1 in my ear as I was about to bungee jump from the world’s tallest bungee jump bridge … definitely was a “last thing i’m going to do before i die’ feeling.  But thankfully some things on my must do list are much simpler, one  of which being to simply sign my name below Paul McCartney’s name on the Penny Lane sign in England.   Got the idea from this absolutely wonderful video that – if you’re a sucker  for nostalgia – really must take a moment from your day  to sit and watch.  You can thank me later that you did : (watch for the signature moment at 2:50 into the video)

     

    2.  In Demi Moore’s movie The Seventh Sign there’s a bit of dialogue that really struck a chord with me , and since it resonates with what I’m going through now ; haunts me.   It reads as such  :

    The Guf, .

    “ln Judeo-Christian mythology, The Guf is the Hall of Souls.

    “Every time an infant is born, this is where its soul comes from.

    “Folklore says sparrows can see the soul`s descent and this explains their song.

    “But a day will come when the sparrow sings no more…

    “…because there are only a finite number of souls in The Guf.

    “lt`s when the last soul is used, and The Guf is empty, that the world will end.

     

    Which is more or  less how I feel my life will end.  Oh for certain the world will go on , no need to fret about that.   However the concept of their being a finite number of souls in the Guf  – when I relate that to how I feel that after each session I do I feel I’ve emptied my soul a little more, and a little more.  Surely there can only be a finite amount of sadness I can feel,  yes? No?

    See, I have this ability to make people feel  very happy, and yet  each   time  somebody leaves  my place dancing  on  air  , I  slip  a bit further towards emptiness.    Talk about a zero sum job , huh.

     

    3.   I  suppose if I wrote  in  my blog that  I haven’t  left my condo in 5 days , and nor have I  talked to anyone that it would read as something  alarming.     Whereas in fact, I  find lately that the more I shut  out  the world, the happier I am.

     

    4.   Be it my phone  when  I type , or my laptop here  at home, why  does   my space  bar voluntarily add unnecessary spaces at  random?

     

    5.  When I let go of my goal last year to pick up the German language and continue my education oversees ,  I floated aimlessly for a while looking for a new purpose to my life.  That led to an uncountable amount times where I’d stare at the stars with tears  in  my  eyes in the middle of the night.   It took a while for  me to  realise  that the   only time I was without thought was my two hours in the gym every  afternoon.  Which became  2  1/2 hour workouts.    Then 3 hours.   It got to the  point where my legs were so sore from squatting barbells that if my bdsm  session that evening required me to fuck  the guy’s ass doggy style –  my legs would  seize   up on me and I’d  have  to  collapse onto  the guys back  and hold on for dear life until my thighs would stop  convulsing.

     

    6.   Word got out to “go see Mistress  Jaa if you’re  into pegging  because she’ll fuck you ’til  she collapses” , and suddenly around January of this year every single session request was not for Tease & Denial but for hard core ass fuckery.   By March I had iron thighs.  By May though, even though my ass and hips really went into super curve territory ,  enough was enough.  Things were so warped that no doubt I had seen more  of men’s asses   than I had of their  faces ,  and had to  drastically scale back on the number of pegging sessions I’d accept.   That ratio has held right up  until now where I’ll accept 10 Tease  &  Denial sessions before  even considering a pegging  session.

     

    7.  What the first third  of  the year  did though  was  convince  myself that it wasn’t a vain thing to do … to  change my body from hot  to drop  dead gorgeous  , be it  through exercise or surgery.   That has become my current goal ,  and judging by my latest tweet on Twitter ,  it’s making guys lose their  fucking minds.    Especially when they are seeing me in person for the first time as the most frequent  compliment laid at my feet is that I’m infinitely hotter live  than in my  photos.   A neat trick  since  my photos are pretty  damn  hot to start with.

     

     

    8.    You see,  a great deal of confidence is needed  to be an elite mistress.    I love that natural feeling of knowing I can knock men off their feet  just  by walking down to Starbucks in  my  shorts ,  with no makeup ,  10  minutes after I’ve woken up.     So if  that  truly is what  I’m  good at ,   then for  fuck sakes,   why not just go “all-in” with my looks.   I’m  talking boobs, eyes, lips,  nose , ass – fucking everything.  There are but a small handful  of truly drop dead  gorgeous bdsm mistress’s in the  world – that I’ve seen on Twitter.   I no longer  want to  be one of  the  best , I simply want  to be the de facto – hottest mistress  in the world.    Not  surprisingly  … the sessions as  the year has gone on have truly blown guys away :

     

    h…..a
    Nov 4, 2018, 9:52 AM
    to me

    Hello Goddess,

    i hope this email finds You well!
    i apologies for only emailing You today but i needed few days to process what happened last wednesday… i am still seeing moments of the session when i close my eyes…

    i just wanted to thank You again for the fantastic session.. it was such an honour to finally meet You and worship You… You are truly exceptional and i am really hoping to come back very soon at Your feet … i guess i am already addicted to You…

    i really hope that despite my lack of experience You were a little bit satisfied with me and i hope that in the future we can define a path for me to progress toward whatever objective or state You envision for me…

    Truly Yours, Goddess!
    Your slave

     

    9.    Pig Alert.  Two dudes wearing brown  , with gold helmets ,  on a motorcycle = capital D ,  Danger for you foreigners.   Keep your eyes open, avoid if possible.

     

    10.  Ten is the consecutive #  of sessions  I’ve  done that have been  vacation / Mistress Girlfriend multiple day excursions.  Lately,  these are the only sessions that truly fascinate me.  But they’re also a bloody nightmare for the guy(s) who don’t quite “get” what having a BDSM Mistress as a girlfriend would truly be like.   Those expecting love,  romance to bloom over a candlelight dinner , and hot passionate sex – find both the time spent with me  and the 10,000/day to go with it a horrible investment.  You’re lucky if you get to worship my ass while  not  in public.   You’re just as likely  to  be chained to the end of the bed and sleeping on the floor  as you are to be sleeping with your nose  in my ass all night.   But ya,  you’ll fall in love  , that’s a certainty.    However, me  falling in love  with you –  you’d have a  better chance getting a  fat  kid  to eat  broccoli.

     

    11.   I”m  enjoying these extended multi-day sessions so much that – under certain circumstances – I’m now accepting such sessions in Europe starting in 2019.   The circumstances are strict though, a number  of conditions  must  be  met , and those  are :  a) we’ve  had previous mutually enjoyable sessions  here in Bangkok.    b)  You’re providing both the flight and accommodation.  c) unless we’re talking about a  period of time longer than a few days,  the tribute is  $10,000  baht per day.    Negotiable if we’re talking about a multi-week stay.   d) I’m not your  24/7 mistress.    My true personality drives men to utter frustration / madness,  or it drives them bat-shit wild  ;  and walking  that line  fascinates you.

     

    12.  Thanks to my fake job,  paying me fake money  with  fake job slips ,  visas  to anywhere in  the world are no longer a problem.   Which  begs  the  saying,  ‘if you’re  gonna live right downtown in the world’s cesspool of humanity,  might  as well make corruption  work for you.”   amiright?  🙂

     

    13.  Not sure why,  but guys say it adds to the  experience  when  I toss them a slightly damp towel to clean themselves  with  after orgasm.   So I’ve been keeping  the  towel I showered with as a cum rag.    Which  has caused me to  buy  about  500  towels this year.   Fuck.

     

    14.   Just like it’s  (super) hard to find a guy who knows how to keep his mouth on  my  pussy long after he’s eaten me  to  orgasm  , giving  me  time  to come  down  the  mountain …  it’s (super) important to keep pumping the guy’s dick slower and tighter to get every  last drop out  after the  2 hour  build up  has been released.   Knowing how to properly  handle a  guy’s   dick in those 60 seconds after orgasm is the   difference between  a  great  session  and  a fabulous  one.

     

    15.  This guy found out the hard way that it’s MUCH better to wait for me in the event a  session can’t  be immediately booked.   The Tease  & Denial experience at anyplace elsewhere is “meh” at  best:

    MJ
    Thu, Nov 29, 1:45 PM (7 days ago)
    to me

    Holy shit. It’s painful to be beautiful. Since we couldn’t have our appointment the 27 november. I’ve tried others things but that was pretty bad actually.

    One prostate massage at Analisa, near asok station. Damn that was bad. No game, the girl thought she was teasing me but I didn’t care her handjob had a huge lack of skill actually. I paid for prostate massage but it was more a long handjob + “at the end I put a finger and I stroke your dick very hard to make you cum”. So disappointed.

    I’ve tried a beautiful top ladyboy but he was an armpit fetish. It was funny but he wasn’t hard enough and I was too tight. We couldn’t make it.

    I have to ask you if you are available in early December (I’m leaving the 5) to have a 2 hours session with a professional.

    Regards

     

    16.  It’s humorous to me that my first ever stock investment was buying US$ 1,000 worth of BitCoin when it was at 11,000 , and seeing it plummet this month to 3,700 is a good reminder that I have a lot to learn when it comes to investing.   My question to you  in general is  … at  3,700 is BitCoin now a good place to buy?   Or is it in free fall?

     

    17.   To pass the boredom on the occasional night I don’t have  a session  , I’ll play with Tinder ,  chatting  up hot guys to make them horny  – and frustrating all their plots to find ways to meet me.   This  week when I went down to the lobby to meet “Alex”  29yo from London  , who wanted to be walked like a dog with his nose in my ass (as  per  his session request email) I was the first to burst out laughing because he was the guy  I  had  just been  flirting  with earlier that afternoon from the gym on my  Tinder  account.  He didn’t  catch on right away to who I was ‘cuz  my  Tinder photo is a grungy one of me on vacation , not comparable to the  “damn girl” look I present myself with for our  sessions.  So  I  took out  my  phone ,  went to our conversation we  had had  earlier , and flipped to the part where he  sms’d  me :  “you’ve never met a guy like me before” and  made him read it.   When the lightbulb went off in his head and  he  turned  beat  red  in the  face  I pinched  him by his  nose  and  said “truth is, you’ve never  met a GIRL – like me before.”   Then showed  him  my ass and continued “woof  woof” .

     

    18.   The Tinder mentality in these parts is that once you  get  the girl  to  meet  you , it’s a guaranteed lay.    Alex REALLY tried to ignore all  his submissive emails  as if he never sent  them  ,  and erroneously held on to his Tinder Mantra that I must somehow be a sure lay.   Those types  of sessions  are  the  absolute  worst ,  it’s a battle of egos and wits ,  one that I never  lose.   Guess  how many minutes that session lasted before  he  was shown the door,  lol.

     

    19.   Lots of guys were stunned to find out via my Twitter that I don’t celebrate any of the holidays here, including the recently passed Loi Kratong.    I can’t believe littering the ocean with  69 million plastic boats of flowers is still considered a good idea on this side of the world.   I am up for a good Turkey Dinner though this Christmas ,  anyone gonna  invite me to meet  the  ‘fam over the holidays?  Ya, didn’t think so lol.

     

    20.   The best way to follow me  in  the  times I’m not  writing many stories is via my Twitter account.    Unlike everybody else who uses Twitter  to promote themselves or their services , I use  it only  to display my personality,  my thoughts,  and my sense of humour.   It’s why I  don’t have a billion followers  , but the one’s I do  have  really do get  to know me on a more personal level.   I  reply  to  all  comments too , so feel free to say what’s on  your mind when I  tweet  something.

     

    21.    I’m gonna take Christmas and New Years off this year.   In prior years I’ve done sessions straight through the holidays.   Not so this time around.   Mistress Wael will take over emails and blog stories for the week or so that I’m off.

     

    xx

     

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