Since 60% of marriages end in a financially devastating divorce , from which both parties cannot ever recover financially in time for their retirement , I often wonder why this archaic human ritual persists to this day?
If you were asked to volunteer for a trip on an airplane, wherein you knew in advance that you’d be forced to jump out of once it reached maximum altitude , but that 60% of the parachutes would malfunction and those people would plummet to their death … how many people would agree to sign up for the experience?
0%. Nobody would be so stupid , and yet – 80% of the population volunteer for the broken parachute known as marriage.
Why do they sign up for certain heart ache and a legal dogfight worse than war itself?
I think it’s because most people are not comfortable with what I’m doing right now, sitting alone here in my condo since 5pm , sipping on Earl Grey tea with Mozart’s Requiem in D minor playing ever so softly in the background , writing away well past midnight both happy and content in my solitude.
Given my looks , which is pretty easy to say that I’m not hard on the eyes , had you told me in my university days when I was young and my mind full of shared societal dreams that I’d be still single 18 days removed from my 31st birthday , I’d have called you a fool.
Yet here I am. As single as a Popsicle stick. And yes, truly 18 days out from my birthday.
I had , well not a meltdown , but definitely a ‘pause for concern’ this past week.
William Somerset: [Reading from one of John Doe’s journals] On the subway today, a man came up to me to start a conversation. He made small talk, a lonely man talking about the weather and other things. I tried to be pleasant and accommodating, but my head hurt from his banality. I almost didn’t notice it had happened, but I suddenly threw up all over him. He was not pleased, and I couldn’t stop laughing. (Quote from the movie: Se7en)
I did throw up , but only inside my mouth , and only a little. Yes it was mid session , and no it had nothing to do with the man’s body odor.
It’s just, with my mom sick in the hospital last month and my own medical expenses for my gashed ankle running amok , I did something I don’t normally do : I accepted pretty much every session request without the detailed scrutiny I normally police myself with. Being an established mistress , there are no end to sessions if I do indeed choose them all , and that’s what I had done for the entire duration of May. In the span of a 31 day period I did well over 67 sessions. By comparison , I normally see about 18 people per month on average , purposely limiting myself to no more than 6 session per week, and preferably 3 or 4.
Ok boys listen up , I’m putting in my birthday wish early, 18 days early to be specific. This perfume can’t be bought in Bangkok so I’m looking for someone sweet to bring it with them and surprise me for my bday. I need ONLY 1 bottle so I’ll post once it’s been bought for me. pic.twitter.com/BxUBnKd5wz
— ThaiGoddessJaa (@FemDom_Khaleesa) June 4, 2018
By the time one of you is invited to my condo for a female domination session , we are normally quite good friends having gotten to know one another extensively through our email exchanges , and I’ve deemed you in my mind as being someone interesting enough that I would care to meet here in my humblest of homes.
I’m hardly if ever rude in my session , there’s no need to be. The whole premise behind my style of female domination is that I play the mental game of making you doubt whether you’ve just seen your all time favorite mistress or whether you just met the girl of your dreams and long for a relationship with her but have no idea from where to begin. I delight in making men bothered by such an internal fight with their mind , and it can only happen when I’m in the presence of men I totally enjoy being with.
But when I invite nearly 70 men to my place they not only become faceless , they ire me in ways I’m not accustomed to feeling.
Ended up kicking two people out of my condo within five minutes of the session beginning. That never ever happens ok. In the 3/4 of a decade that I’ve been a mistress I can recall only one other time where I abruptly ended a session in it’s infancy. To have to do it twice within a week angered me.
To have to engage in banal small talk over and over and over three times a day began to grate on my nerves.
Sitting with people I couldn’t stand, people who if you if you saw them eating you wouldn’t be able to finish your meal , I hit a point where I couldn’t take it.
So, in the middle of a session while asking this rather obese hairy slob of a man to strip in my bedroom , I threw up in my mouth at the site of his cock and spat my bile out on the leathery strands of my whip which I held in hand at the time.
I then beat him like I’ve never beat a man in my life. I punished him for being a slob , for being an obese fat pig who thought it was fine to have such smelly sweaty armpits that it offended my nose from 5 meters away.
I flogged him black , blue and bloody.
Then I ordered him out of my condo and threw his pants out in the hall after him leaving him to bleed on the hallway carpet naked and disgusting.
And then I cried.
Fuck eh?
Exactly.
It’s like “bobbing for apples” … only BETTER !!#humantoilet , #toilettraining , #slave , #femdom , #bdsm , #femaledomination , #humiliation pic.twitter.com/4BtuxlBKDS
— ThaiGoddessJaa (@FemDom_Khaleesa) May 29, 2018
And then as I sat there thinking about him and all his disgustingness , it dawned upon me that he had worn a wedding ring.
I thought, what woman out there has let her life slip into such a hell that this man is the creature who comforts her every night? Why would she settle for that? What hell is marriage actually?
So, my apologies to all those nice people out there whose sessions I abruptly cancelled last week. I needed time to reset myself. I needed a few nights of Mozart and the smell of my own perfume , alone with my thoughts and a nice glass of Bordeaux wine in hand.
I’m ever aware that the previous Mistress Jaa was somewhat insane by the time she decided to pack Mistress life in and handed the reigns over to me as she faded into a reclusive retirement. I dare not to follow in those same footsteps.
Yes she was making half a million per month at the time, but at what cost.
We’re meant as a species to be selective about whom we meet and invite into our lives. That I’ve politely turned down 12 session requests this weekend alone and accepted only two tells me that I’m back on the right path of finding happiness through my job as a Mistress.
What can you take out of this , especially if you’re a first time visitor to my blog? First impression dude , it’s all about the first impression you make on me when you fill out the form below. In the end I choose the most charming, the most adventurous , the most decent of men back to my condo.
Dare to make yourself charming, adventurous and decent … and you’ll indeed have a shot at experiencing my delightful side and the pleasures it brings.
xx