The five sounds we can’t make when trying to speak English because our language comes from our throat with little to no movement of the tongue or jaw needed whatsoever. To help myself overcome this problem I read a lot of Dr.Seuss even though I was 13 at the time and the books were below the level I should have been reading at. No other book was as repetitive as Green Eggs & Ham and there were nights where long after everyone had gone asleep I’d be sitting in my bed trying to say “i would not could not in a bed” … which struck me as an atypical thing to say for most girls i knew in the village.
Over time I developed the dexterity needed to enunciate the language well enough , but I am one of the few.
Where’s she going with this?
It’s a thin story , I admit , as not much note-worthy has happened this week in terms of sessions , so I’m just skimming over 2 funny things that happened which both came from the strangeness of Phonetics.
The first of which came when talking with a girlfriend of mine who got herself pregnant again with a foreigner and was coming to me for help because the guy was insistent that the child be named after his father – Art , this after naming her first child with him Craig .
I absolutely lost it when she came to me with this problem , and we were both in tears laughing at how unfortunate this problem is. You see , for those of you who are not familiar with how we get rid of sounds in your alphabet for easier ones in ours , the letter R always gets replaced with the letter S.
So yes, while naming his son after his father is a noble gesture , he is in fact condemning his son to be called Ass and thus guaranteeing his son a few hundred school fights to look forward to.
But hold on, i told you her first son, now 4 years old was named Craig.
It’s hard to imagine a worse name to give a son than Ass but if there was , it’d be Craig – if one is intending to live here. That’s because other than myself and a handful of others , Craig gets pronounced as Quack.
Which if you’re astute , you’ve already put one and one together and realized that when she introduces her two sons to people in her village, she’ll be saying : “These are my two sons Ass Quack”
Which is as close to naming your kids asshole as one can get I suppose.
Even if you’re gonna be smart about things and you name you kid with a foreigner type name that is easily pronounceable here , chances are the doctor and the people who work at the office registering the name will fuck it up. Case in point, my other girlfriend who has a son named Thomas or Tom as he’s known by at school. Yet when the teacher reads his name out, she has to say Somat which has pissed off her husband to no end.
When Thomas was born the girl at the name registry office said that the name had to begin as S-O-M because there is no TH in this country. Really? It’s the first two letters of this country dumb ass. Also , never give you kid a name that ends in S because by our rules , that sound must be changed to a T sound , so you’ll never get the purity of the name you wished to have for your child.
I promise you though, that if the day comes I actually do sit down to write a novel based on three kids characters, the book will begin as such : “Never had there been three friends who had grown more close in friendship than those of Ass Crack and Somat”
Moving on, or rather .. coming back to Green Eggs & Ham , while Wael was hosting our moo-ka-ta bbq at my request the other day , she did so speaking English the whole time which i commend her for , yet when she tries to say something as simple as “I did, I cooked it myself” to everyone’s ears it would be picked up as “I dis, I coosed is myselphphph”. She’s picking up the language fast as can be , but she’s had nobody teach her the phonetics of the language so that’s holding her back.
Leave it to me to not leave well enough alone , I got up and went to the computer to see if I could google up Green Eggs & Ham for her and wouldn’t you know it , I found it and loaded it up for her so for the next hour while we ate I got her to read and re-read that book until she began to learn to move her mouth correctly. I was relentless in how much I corrected her , and for 15 minutes straight she was caught up on “I would not could not in a house, I could not would not with a mouse.”
Try saying that sentence while paying attention to how much your mouth moves around , then consider how difficult that must be for somebody who has spoken through her throat all her life.
When we finally got through it for the second time she collapsed on the bed trying to massage her mouth with her hands complaining how sore her jaw was.
“I don’t like Green Eggs & Ham” she said.
“Not in a house, not with a mouse?” I replied.
“Go fuck yourself” was her final remark.
So then fast forward 24 hours as the next day we had a double mistress session with a guy in my condo who wanted to be double teased with heavy facesitting. There’s two types of facesitting in case you didn’t know. There’s the guys who love to worship a perfect ass and love to see it dangling ever so close above their face before maybe or maybe not getting to worship it later that evening with their mouth. Then there’s the guys who love being smothered with an ass to the point where they struggle to breathe and almost end up passing out. It’s a tremendous turn-on for them … but if for that group of people I only hovered above them , they wouldn’t enjoy it at all.
For the ass smother group , I have Wael do the face sitting as by default her ass is bigger than mine. That’s not to say she has a fat ass , she doesn’t and how could she, this is the girl who does 16gk squats with kettlebells for an hour each day. I’m simply saying that my ass is tiny , round, tight , curvy , and perfect for worshiping from a slight distance. Hers is a tad heavier and can completely smother a face.
There she was then , sitting atop this fellow for the first time counting to twenty in an agonizingly slow way so that he’d start kicking his feet and rocking his body to find air. In anger she looked down at him and yelled out:
“Ham!”
To which i thought nothing of it since Ham in our language means ‘forbidden’ or when barked like a command can mean “Don’t”
“Ham , do you like it Ham?’
To which he tilts his chin outside of her ass just enough to eek out a “what?” as I sit there still stroking his dick but more fascinated by what they’re trying to communicate to one another.
“Ham, listen to me Ham, haam”
I rolled my eyes up towards my forehead searching for the translation of what she just said at which time it clicked like a light bulb. I laughed. Before he had arrived she asked me what his name was and I had told her “His name is Sam , just like in the book remember?”
“Oh Sam I am” she had said, “yes I remember”.
Yet there in the middle of the session from the excitement of suffocating this poor dude , she got the book confused and had begun calling him Ham. Ham I Am.
“Why do you keep saying Ham?” he said after the fifth gasp for breath.
Then I recalled my friend’s kid and soon to be born baby which made me blurt out “Ass Crack and Ham” and I laughed so hard I had to excuse myself and leave the room in tears. That line in it’s own isn’t that funny probably , but it was the trigger that we all get at some point in our lives that sets off uncontrollable laughter which nobody else in the room gets.
And that ladies and gentlemen , or just gentlemen actually as i doubt any ladies come here for their daily frap … was the height of excitement in my week of teasing.
Finally , to all who had marked on the calendar the significance of today and remembered to email me … from the bottom of my heart … thank you. So many of you are so astute and so kind , it really touched my heart to wake up and see so many emails waiting in my inbox. I had purposely not mentioned anything about it to see if indeed anyone remembered and so many of you did.
xx
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“Human toilet training session needed by me. I’ve followed the map to the golden monkey and it’s led me to you. Will you be the one to give me what I so desperately seek?”
With my human toilet training sessions being priced at 15,000 baht per meal I thought that would dissuade people from even inquiring about sessions let alone book them, but noooooo. Though I dropped Economics in University it seems I learned the laws of supply and demand well enough for it was a simple supply and demand equation that made me think long and hard about what men truly desire when it comes to all things related to poo and femdom.
The simple recipe for creating uncontrollable demand is this …
Watch 1000 videos on mistress’s feeding slaves their shit.
Analyze why none of those videos are any good.
Write many stories about men with such fantasies truly desire.
Hit the nail smack on the nail of the head in every story I’ve written.
and that’s it … oh and one more important ingredient …
have stunning looks and and even more stunning ass.
When I realized the demand for such a session was far far greater than I had ever hypothesized and that the supply of beautiful women willing to supply such a treat is pracitcally non-existant , I threw out 15,000 as a number off the top of my head for how much I should charge for the pleasure of being under my ass at the most innapropriate time possible. Two sessions a day multiplied by about three hundred days a year came out to nine million in revenue, I won’t lie to you … I had walked into the sales office of that condo being being built beside Nana bts station and had serious visions about plopping down a cool 20 million a couple of years hence.
Now here we are just over a year later and you know what? Condo be damned , I can’t stand doing the sessions because they are nothing more than a cash grab with nothing in it for me. Yes, to a certain point what I do pays the bills and is moving me towards being financially independent , however it’s never been about money , it’s always been about the challenge of seducing a man, dominating him , coercing him to eventually do whatever I ask him to.
That’s not an easy thing to do. If you can imagine me on my first solo session without Jaa to guide me , I was nervous as I’ve ever been in my life. It’s no easy feat to take a man who is superior to me in size, strength and age … and break his willpower. I believe this is why a staggering disproportionate amount of mistresses rely on dungeons, pain, and fear in their sessions because it evens the odds.
Since day one I’ve never gotten a man to do what I want by going down that road , I’ve always relied on seduction and love which give me a great deal of leverage over how much I can influence a man. Whereas any woman can step into the role of being a mistress using pain as her tool , it takes many failed sessions to learn the craft of seduction. I measure failure by the degree , or lack thereof , of how much a man has fallen in love with me by the end of a short two hour session. A harsh measuring stick to be sure , but an accurate one.
For it is within that feeling of love that I can begin to inspire a man to do anything to please me.
Nothing , and I mean nothing , excites me more than giving a man a command to do something – and have him look me with a gaze in his eye that says “are you kidding me” only to have my eye confirm a strong “yes” without any words being spoken. To see him follow through with whatever it was I ordered him to do is a true transference of power , as is immediately removing him from my life if he hesitates to fulfill or even worse … questions my request.
Now understand this, while I have on a few occasions abruptly ended sessions simply because there was a failure to appease me , I had done so because to continue with the session at that point would have been meaningless as I had misjudged the moment. Does that make sense to you? If not, you’re probably thinking within the context of a two hour session. Don’t. I’m talking about the relationship of trust that develops slowly over many subsequent sessions as the submissive falls deeper and deeper under my control. He’s trusting me to take him deeper into the rabbit hole with every passing session and I’m trusting that he’ll willingly be led past any limits he thought he had.
You see, at the beginning of the first session , there’s no way I can ask something outlandish to be done and expect my wish to be followed through on. The trick on my part is judging when that moment is that he’s so far in love with being his mistress’s submissive that there no longer is anything implausible that I can ask him to do. It’s done willingly , albeit reluctantly , with no complaint , for him such a request is just the next plunge down the rabbit hole. For me to misjudge such a moment and have him refuse me , or question me , that’s a failure on my part to properly interpret the degree of his submissiveness towards me at that given moment.
If I did fuck up so brilliantly then I’ve lost the mood for the session as whatever magic I felt was present , clearly wasn’t and since I refuse to do anything that is acted out without feeling I have to end the session right then and there.
It rarely happens that I misjudge where we are in the mistress – submissive relationship though.
So as an example , going back to late February I had a dinner session on my calendar , the fifth of such dates with a French Canadian kid – Marc Andre – the name sticks to me because he wouldn’t let me address him by one of those two names , he insisted that was his full name. Solved that problem by calling him Maa – “dog” in my language as his last name began with an A as well. For his four hour dinner session we ate at Above Eleven from 7-10 pm , then went dancing until 4am. I normally stay out until the sun rises but in this case , he was having so much fun spending all this time with me “off the books” that I sensed he’d do anything to prolong an already very lengthy “session.”
At our table I leaned over to him and asked him “do you want to go back to my condo?”
“Yes” he said enthusiastically.
“Good” I said while giving him a good squeeze under the table between his legs, “I have to poo.”
My dance club is on the same soi as my condo so we were home a few minutes later. I let him take off his shoes and then led him by the hand to my bedroom … and then right through my bedroom and into the bathroom.
“Come on” I said after he paused at the doorway. “Told you I have to do a number two” and I squatted backwards cowboy style over the toilet seat still with my jeans on.
Both his hands covered his face from his nose down and he uttered some shit in French that I didn’t understand.
“Or you can go home. Upto you.”
“Mistress I …” he said only that for his complaint to what I was asking him , but he got on his hands and knees and crawled under my ass anyways.
A moment like that is what I live for. There’s nothing forced going on , it’s just a simple request by me that will either be carried out or it won’t. Oh but when it does get carried out and he’s under there kicking his feet violently on the floor , slapping his hands against my thighs as he holds on tight like he’s about to ride a bull – that’s pure bliss on my part right there. It’s moments like that which let me carry out such a fetish.
In any one of my 15,000 baht sessions I have neither heard such heavy breathing , such whimpering , nor have I seen a face full of tears as I have always seen when a poo eating fetish has been carried out my way and under circumstances that I dictate.
Rather, each of those sessions that I’ve done for the money grab has been like feeding a hungry kid that I have no affection for.
Therefore , I don’t care if you’re offering me 30k or 50k for such a poop-on-demand kind of session , I’m not doing it. It’s a “treat” that only a very select few will ever get to experience with me , and I have no map to the golden monkey to give you which lays out exactly what to do to become the next guy in line for such a meal. This is one of those rare times where the golden monkey finds you , if you’re worthy.
xx
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Here’s a story to show you how much of a hard ass tough bitch Mistress I am.
You guys always ask me in email why I’m so open with you about how much I dislike living here. Abhor is a more appropriate word actually , but the answer lays not within me alone but within all Mistress’s of this website both past and present.
To explain I’ll try to encapsulate what happened today as I spent time separately with the original Mistress Jaa and then Mistress Wael and though we are all three different people there is a common thread that runs between us all.
I thought we were having fun tonight Wael and I , we were messing around with Photoshop making it look like I had slaughtered a goat to poke fun at the Indian dude who wanted me to do such a thing in an actual session so this photo was meant both to appease him and poke fun at him on Twitter. My part of the photo came from me holding a piece of bloody liver in my hand just before cooking it on the bbq which was surrounded by a magnificent spread of food all ready to be chowed down on by me her and Jaa’s son.
We do this frequently , every time I go over there to write and it’s always fun but this time Wael was there in body but not in mind. I caught on to it right away and when we had time alone I asked her if she wanted to talk about things.
Remarkably, she answered me in English saying “I’m sad and I don’t know why.” But I knew exactly why , I had just finished talking all day with Jaa about this exact same feeling shared by her and I as well , it’s something we know all too well but that Wael is just learning about.
It boils down to this. So long as one’s life consists of just two locations home and work , with enough money to eat and travel back to work again , that person can find happiness. Wael was once a sous-chef at the Intercontinental Hotel making 400 baht (10 euros) a day for her 12 hour shifts , a privileged life she had earned with her University degree in Hospitality and her College degree as a chef. She loved those she worked with and though the days were long she was happy to have a job that paid twice as much as most other women make here. Her accommodation was less than modest, a 10 foot by 4 foot rectangle with a toilet and nothing else where she’d sit nibbling on her 5 baht bag of sticky rice dipping it in the spicy sauce it comes with for flavor. She had no phone or computer at the time , she’d read until sleepy then curl up on the floor beside her fan to repeat it all again the next day.
Come payday she’d calculate her expenses and send whatever was remaining back to her mom in Chiang Rai ensuring the one who had endured even worse hardships to raise her would be able to get by in her old age. She took out a handful of photographs of her smiling and hugging the rest of the kitchen staff and reminisced about how happy she was back then.
Presently she makes in two afternoon sessions what took her an entire month to earn at her old job.
She first took it upon herself to help her mentally challenged disabled sister to go from a life of begging to using the float money Wael gave her to run a tiny lottery ticket business. She paid the first two months rent for a safer place for her sister and her daughter to live and upgraded her school. Next, since her family lives 15km outside of Chiang Rai on a very remote rural rode she made a down payment on an old but usable second hand car so that her mom and dad didn’t have to cycle to the market every day. She sends money for the car payment, money for her mom , her dad (who beats her mom), her two daughters tuition , and her grandmother every month.
What she’s done is she’s put the entire family on her shoulders, all of whom didn’t have the bare necessities of life until Wael began to provide for them all.
She said to me “I can’t die first” today with a tear in her eye. “What will happen to them if I die?”
I told her that she’s barely over 35 , it’s not something likely to happen for a long time yet and that she’s doing well.
“Nobody will go to my funeral if I die, I’m so alone” she said next.
Guess who also said that to me today?
Jaa’s life , well , she had it all up on this blog at one time for the world to see , then she took all 700 stories down and chose to recluse her life elsewhere, plagued by the exact same burdens carried by Wael. One woman financially holding up an entire family isn’t what broke her in the end though, it was the loneliness.
Loneliness caused by having one’s eyes opened to the truth, that we’ve been lied to all our lives.
If I had to guesstimate I’d say ninety per cent of every woman here lives their life knowing two locations , home and work, until the day they die. To break out of that rut , like us three have done, requires slicing our own uncut trail far removed from the path trodden upon by all. Once that’s done, three weights get saddled on one’s shoulders.
First of which is the thought the comes with realizing how little money we were making before which is … just how much money needs to be made to be comfortable in life and how little time there is to accomplish that goal.
The second is the frustration of having to support family members , sometimes all of them , because the previous generation made less than this generation does and have long since stopped earning income in a country with absolutely no old age benefits or company pension plan.
Thirdly, and probably most importantly, is the terrible feeling of being alone. The three of us Mistress’s are a small sample size of this observation but it’s true for all of us that the more we learn what the world’s really about , the more we want to know at the cost of alienating ourselves even further from the naive around us.
The alienation got to Wael so much last month that she attempted to first go back to being a cook and then even tried to go back to her old job at the Anantara Hotel’s Spa as a masseuse , not to find money but to find friendship. It was a short-lived return at both places though. Whether it was the child level workplace conversations or getting paid 500 baht for 12 hours work or perhaps both , she came and asked me to redo her page on this site once she realized what I already knew … you can’t go back.
I came home here to my silent condo and was laying down on the sofa thinking about how I guess in a way I’m a bit luckier than both of them in that I don’t have to support an entire family. I send money to my mom every month to take care of her even though she’s never one time asked me to do so and I never particularly got along with her growing up, I just do so out of respect. Growing up was harsh and loveless , village life is solely like that , constantly thinking of survival leaves little room for other emotions, especially something as frivolous as love.
My thoughts carried over to just how much time I spend alone , how much time Wael spends alone and how much time Jaa spent alone. Is it our destiny to share Jaa’s reclusive life as well in the future , is that where this way of making money inevitably leads?
Right at that moment my phone rang and it was my mom who never calls me, ever. I picked up and we talked a bit and at some point she asked me if i was ok to which I told her I was doing just fine but she persisted by asking me again. “Fine” I replied. There was this long silence and that duration of time felt like we were both universes apart and yet though not once in my life had I ever done so with her I felt for some reason she could sense that I needed to talk to her frankly and emotionally.
“I’m alone” i told her. I have too much respect for the hardships she endured in her life , my troubles cannot even account for half of what she survived and to bring up how I’m feeling would seem insignificant to her knowing what she’s gone through.
“and?” she said.
“I’m tired.” I paused thinking if I should add more and reluctantly added “I feel alone in this world and that nobody loves me.” I said it not expecting her to understand or care. That’s not a mean thing to say it’s just the way it is in our society , especially if you come from the village. It’s a hard love between parents and their children here , unlike in your western culture the word love is hardly if ever mentioned between mother and child and almost never spoken between father and child.
Again there was this long silence between us. In my entire life I had never been as candid as I had just been with her, perhaps that took her off her guard for she then replied to me what would be in English this …
“Well I know you are tired because you take care of me, yourself and everyone around you yet you never once came running to me with your problems. But I want you to know that even if everyone in this world chooses not to love you , I do , I love you.”
…and that, was the first time in my life she told me she loved me. I broke down and cried. I don’t need all the fingers on just one of my hands to count the number of times somebody has told me they love me and truly meant it in my life , but of the few times I’ve sincerely heard those words tonight was the one that meant the most to me. For me, this girl you know as a hard ass tough bitch Mistress had nothing to say back to her , I hung up which is fine because knowing our relationship with one another that was the appropriate thing to do.
xx
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I just read it while there is football on tv and my housemate is on the other sofa, so no touching, but just reading it I got so hard and I had to email you.
Ahh your attitude is just everything so perfect. The teasing with the kiss…I always think that kissing is the most intimate thing two people can do. Being teased with a kiss from your sexy mouth would be even more frustrating than being teased by your pussy.
I would do anything. And like in the blog post, I will say that I mean anything! Even sucking cock for you…
Sean’s email to me turned on two light bulbs in my head reminding me about the peculiar cases of Mumpa and Hobbes , which though it sounds like an Indian version of the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes it’s not. Which makes sense because if you told an Indian dude there’s a comic strip about a boy named Mumpa and his imaginary tiger who is real – but only when nobody’s around – the Indian man, his life founded in practicality, would say “Well that is nonsense … everybody can see the Tiger will eat the boy.”
Mumpa indeed was an Indian dude who used the words “no limitations” in his email describing his desire for a forced bi session while Hobbes was from… hmm actually I don’t recall him ever telling me though I remember his accent to be possibly Polish or perhaps from elsewhere in Eastern Europe. Anyways regardless of where he was from , Hobbes sprung to my mind because his introductory email also had the tentatively written phrase “even sucking cock for you”.
Mumpa, Hobbes and pretty much any other submissive who has come to me for a first time forced bi experience has never contacted me again after the sessions were finished. Why? Well it’s kind of like strapping yourself to a rocket. You might survive the blast off , hell you might even enjoy the ride for a few minutes , but there’s no escaping the end of that ride is there?
Unlike a circus, my sessions don’t have a net to ensure you a safe landing.
In fact, my circus of the insane involves building a concrete wall to ensure the impact is extra squishy , let me explain.
At the time of Mumpa’s session back in January I was still working with a lady boy named Bowling who at the time – but not any longer – had a massively thick 7 inch sausage between her legs. I’m not talking internet measurements either , I mean thick like a coke can , to the point where every single guy who caught a glimpse of it while glancing over their shoulder before it was forced into their ass let out a scream of despair.
It wasn’t the follow up emails that sealed Mumpa’s fate , it was that he fatally put the words : experienced , enjoy , and no limitations together in the same sentence with his introductory email. Guys who have seen me over the years know that you don’t challenge me like that. Every man has limits that they have not been pushed beyond and my job on certain occasions is to open Pandora’s box for these gentleman.
Ladyboy’s for the most part are submissive bottoms , and while you do find some who promote themselves as being versatile , it’s practically impossible to find one who genuinely enjoys giving it to a guy , the reason being that deep down in their heart they desire to become a lady. Every single ladyboy that I’ve worked with regularly has cut it off and if you stop to think for a second just how final that decision is , you have to respect not their courage to go through with such a procedure , but rather their commitment to wanting to become a girl at all costs.
That being said, until they do lop it off , they are still men. What I know about men is that when certain buttons are pushed and they have both the sexual rage and the green light to do so … they can become animals in the bedroom.
Again, before you can understand why these sessions turned out the way they did , you have to first have a grip on human psychology.
We as a species generally have a programmed care for other human beings. You can see that in times of need where we all instinctively put aside our differences and help thy fellow man in times of crisis. However there is an underlying primal instinct that runs through us like a deep underground river which when let loose, disregards that programmed care in lieu of abusing another the way a lion would maul a zebra.
You see it in school with bullying. Where I’m from you see it whenever there is a 1 vs 1 street fight and it turns into 500 vs 1 mauling every single time. Where you don’t see it , but where it occurs the most frequently , is behind the bedroom door in times of sexual activity.
It’s embedded in the terminology of men: “I fucked the bitch” , “I let her have it” , “I gave it to her good” , “I banged her hard” , “I fucked the cunt” , “I impaled her.”
Here it’s heard on the football pitches , I guess where you’re from it’s heard in hockey room dressing rooms or baseball – hmm does baseball have locker rooms? Whatever, I’m sure men talk shit about us girls wherever the location, I’ve heard it and the complete barbaric lack of respect disgusts me. Luckily my profession is such that I have the ability to harness such aggression and use it on the very gender who talk the talk but can’t walk the walk. Heh, fair play’s a bitch ain’t it?
All I need to do in my ladyboy sessions is to get the chick to tap into his inner beast , as buried as it may be. In other words, he needs to know “not only is it ok to rape this dude’s throat, but it’s expected.”
I was watching UFC fights regularly for a while to get me psyched up for my Muay Thai but I ended up cancelling my subscription because I saw too much humanitarianism at the end of fights which truly isn’t indicative of what happens out in the street when there is no cage, no refs and no sponsors. All men, given the proper cruel circumstances , will kill. It’s why there’s so much laws and regulation in the world , it’s a shield against your innate savagery. You can count on one hand how many 100’s of years ago men were butchering one another with swords and raping women at will.
We’re only at Super Bowl 50 guys , not even triple digits yet. In terms of how long we’ve had to evolve from primal barbarianism , it’s less than a blink of an eye in the history of mankind. Some countries (cough, cough) who cannot hide behind the shield of law provided in first world countries, really display how primal their male species are. Which is perfect for such a session as my submissive guys are asking for.
By his throat I had Mumpa tied over the bed of his hotel room, his feet restrained by the headboard posts and his arms tied tightly to the posts at the foot of the bed. With his head dangling over the side of the bed the only allowance he had for movement was a horizontal shaking of his head which would be discouraged with pain. Which is what pain should be used for. It’s a tool to be used sparingly if at all to discourage cheating by the submissive subject. In most cases, fear of pain is enough to ensure proper behavior.
I laid down 2 of the three towels from the bathroom on the floor beneath his head keeping the third one in hand.
To disassociate Bowling from her environment I told her to put on a playlist of her favorite music and to play it loud so that her earphones would stifle most if not all extraneous noise. But just before she put the earplugs on I gave her the only instructions she needed : “deep and hard , don’t stop , no matter what.”
I’d say the majority of guys who envision a forced bi session see themselves casually being pushed away from my pussy towards a waiting cock where they reluctantly suck on the head to get used to the taste and feel before venturing further down the shaft. I give no such luxury of time.
Sucking cock , it’s ok until … it’s 7 inches down your throat on the first insertion and your gag reflex immediately coughs it back out , only to have it rammed like a piston right back into the back of your throat. Five seconds in and Mumpa had an inclination of how sorry he would be for using the words ‘no limitation.’
“Survive it without complaint , and you’ll get to fuck pussy at the end of the session” I told him as I used my towel to mop off the drool being sucked out of his mouth by Bowling’s dick.
He tried to turn his head slightly to the left or right for the next few strokes which prevented her dick from entering the deepest part of the throat. I corrected such behavior from happening again by flogging his nipples one time sharply. A pleasant side effect of such a stroke being that his yelp opened up his throat nicely for another full thick penetration.
At about 15 minutes into the forced bi session the struggling , gagging , drooling , kicking of Mumpa had desensitized Bowling and her strokes picked up both thrust and frequency and it was a symphony to watch. She’d hit the back of the throat so deep that the dick would be gagged back up and she’d reenter only to be rejected back out again. A pool of his saliva covered his face and the ladyboy was turned on by the delirium in the Indian man’s eyes.
It was nothing short of a full on throat rape and the only thing that kept him from opting out of the session was the reminder of the possibility of pussy at the end of the tunnel. Guys truly will put up with anything if there’s the possibility of pussy at some point.
My phone rang forty five minutes into the ordeal and i gave Bowling the ‘enough’ sign. Poor guy couldn’t properly swallow the water I had offered him , his throat had opened to the size of a meteoric crater.
A knock on the door a second later revealed the girl I promised he could fuck, a go-go bar girl I had used in such a situation way back in December. Too bad for him that the way he got to fuck her wasn’t quite what he had in mind. Don’t know if he’s ever been called a dickhead in his life , but that girl was all over his cock’in’mouth like a fat kid on a Smartie.
Now Hobbes , haha I have to laugh, poor Hobbes had a wholly different introduction to sucking cock. Well for him sucking cock wasn’t the problem. That’s because he had said “even sucking cock” as if that was going to be the biggest hurdle for him to get over in the session , which of course I made sure it wasn’t.
It had never occurred to me until that afternoon to tease the ladyboy. After all , for most ladyboys their baby sausage is an unwanted tool who’s only function is to earn them cash , so I had thought that she’d be up for a good long tease just for the novelty of it. It took a while because there was no seduction going on between me and her but sure enough her coke can was shuddering in the wind , and by wind I guess I mean air conditioning breeze. Sure as heck wasn’t my breathe creating the wind because there was no way in hell I was putting my face anywhere near Mount St. Helen’s , that thing was ready to blow.
One could almost hear her cum cells splitting and multiplying in her tiny Cadbury Easter Cream Egg sized testicles , by my measure there was at least half a water bottle of semen waiting to paint a ceiling as she couldn’t take the teasing at all. If you’ve never been with a ladyboy well , they tend to overreact to things. I mean, it’s cute in some situations but fuck … she was gyrating her hips up and down off the bed so high and violently that it looked like a recreation of The Exorcist. Except there was no “let Jesus fuck you” , there was instead the sound of what could be interpreted as a neutered horse shrieking. Like, repeatedly … do you have any idea how annoying it is to hear “hhuun hhuun” with arms and legs flapping all over the place? It was the first and last time I ever try to tease a ladyboy as I’m certain the neighbor is still wondering to this day what kind of exorcism was going on in my bedroom that afternoon.
“You’re up” I said to Hobbes , “start sucking.”
The guy had no idea the magnitude of the volcanic eruption coming his way. He had it head deep into his mouth when the horse neighing stopped and if there had been a seismograph machine in the room it would have gyrated seismic waves right off the boundaries of the paper. She thrust her hips and my two hands pressed on the back of his neck.
First squirt I reckon must have hit throat while the second and third hit cheeks and he was ok for a while there but damn … that forth squirt. It hit that special place in the back of your throat where it can be sucked up into the nostril cavity and the boy just made things worse by choking on the fifth and sixth waves for the force of the cough shot cum out of his nose the way a dragon would shoot fire out of it’s mouth. Then he inhaled , not in a Bill Clinton kind of a way but in a “i’m dying and I need air now” kind of way.
The second the goop hit his stomach it came right back up twice as fast and do you remember that scene in Jurassic park with the Dilophosauras – the spitting dinosaur? Ya he spat like that , it actually hit my dressing door mirror which is quite a feat since it’s a good four feet away.
To this day, that dude holds the record for the longest post session shower. It was so long that Bowling , notoriously long in the shower herself had showered in my personal bathroom and had left long before he stepped out of the guest shower. Freaking guy used well over 3/4 of my mouthwash bottle , he must have gargled well over 100 times by my estimation.
Safe to say that he’s never “even” tried sucking cock again because the thing about forced bi sessions … sucking cock is ok until … I’m your first time felatio choreographer.
xx
[one_half][formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half] [one_half_last][formcrafts id=’20566′ name=’Session With Wael’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half_last]
So after seeing Warcraft a few weeks ago I’ve been playing World of Warcraft for the first time since Jaa introduced me to the game a few years back when I saw her bouncing around picking up rocks and flowers on her Druid for the first time. She loved gathering resources so much that she had well over 1 million gold , she was Wow’s financial queen – but couldn’t kill anything worth a damn, and if she did it’d take her well over a minute.
I, on the other hand, have found that splitting somebody’s skull in half with a Great Axe gets the job done in a whole different manner. The point being that in the end, both her target and mine succumbed to our methods one way or the other.
And so it is with the way Wael and I approach our Tease & Denial sessions with her having a very physical approach while I use the mental game and though both methods are worlds apart from one another the end result is the same in that our men always beg to be let out of the session. This week we had the pleasure of hosting the same person on different days in back to back sessions, meaning that he’d see her first followed by a session with me the following day, and in both cases we broke him , albeit for entirely different reasons …
“Stop Teasing Me” – Why Wael’s Submissive Quit
While it’s true that Wael is getting sexier by the month, what with her little 6 pack forming from all the Kettlebell workouts she does and the noticeable tightening of her petite boobs , she still chooses to mostly forego conversation in her sessions in favor of an aggressive cock focused approach where she’s merciless on the denial part of the craft.
With this guy Eric, a tall typically blonde Swede , I had shown up at her condo simply to work on touching up the recent photos I’ve taken of her and her friend. Whilst I was on the computer with my back facing the two , we were talking away – Wael and I – in Thai about food of all things. I tend to always want to eat a bbq buffet when I’m over there and since she has the cooking pot needed to make it we often go over what to buy for our meal at great length so that we can eat for hours later.
Wael was laying beside the guy in bed under the blankets because I had cranked the air conditioner up way too cold for her and this guy was beside her , untied , but with his eyes rolled back in his head like he was in the middle of an exorcism the whole time we were chatting.
Under that blanket she was doing the squeeze game I’ve seen her do in our double mistress sessions , where for upwards of 30 minutes she simply kneads the shaft of the guys cock like she’s making cookie dough. Although I have my doubts when she tells me that by doing so, it triples the amount of cum that releases at the end , it is definitely effective in creating a sore pulsing pain in the balls , the aching kind of pain that won’t go away until quite a few hours after the session. I know that because we’ve gone out as a threesome after some sessions and in each case the dude has had a hard time walking with any normality in his stride.
The second thirty minutes was quiet behind me , save the occasional whimper and stifled scream of frustration as Wael is very reluctant to go from first gear to second gear with any great rush , choosing instead to build the pace of her hand movements the way a snail would build pace.
Teasing to the point of release didn’t actually start until I was well into touching up my fifth photo , a good 75 minutes into the session , and with nary a word being spoken behind me in that whole time, he suddenly burst out crying and begging an hour and twenty minutes into it.
At that point I turned around to watch as I get kind of turned on when guys start begging and it was wholly interesting to see her coercing begs and pleas from this guy while being mostly silent in the session. You’ll see how that is vastly different from my style in a moment, but as I told you earlier, the end result is the same. For just shy of the hour and a half mark he forcefully with his unbound hands pushed her fingers away from his dick and kept saying “stop teasing me please , just stop.”
“Pussy” i said , turning back to the computer.
“I can’t take it , I can’t take the pain” he grimaced as he got out of the bed and hobbled to the bathroom to take a shower – without being told to do so.
“Why pain?” Wael turned to me and asked.
“Blue balls” I told her , and then added “I think it’s the worst pain a man can have.” I think that’s a true statement. I base it on my ballbusting sessions where I get to freely kick a guy in his nards as often and as hard as I want for 2 hours straight … and though the guys I do that to are in serious pain, they all have stated openly that they prefer that kind of pain to the pain a pair of over teased blue balls gives them. I don’t understand why , it just seems so.
After the shower he thanked Wael, hugged her , apologized profusely umpteen times , and then left quickly and quietly – clutching at his groin while he walked out the door. Well done Wael , but when the same dude left my condo the next night, he was clutching something entirely different.
“Stop Teasing Me” – Why My Submissive Guy Quit
When I dedicate myself to something I am wholly relentless. Take for example my Muay Thai which I am now doing five times a week, two hours each session , where I push myself to the point of exhaustion. The video I’ve showed you guys in private doesn’t do justice to how strenuous the work outs are. Though I know I’ll never be a fighter , it doesn’t mean I can’t train as hard as someone who needs his Muay Thai to be good enough to be his occupation.
I have been given this gift of being able to get inside a man’s mind so deeply that the seed of desire that I plant there can linger indefinitely creating a bittersweet lustful madness. Regardless of whether you react boldly , confidently , pragmatically to such an invasion of your senses means nothing to me as I have an answer for all your retorts. Men react to seduction in predictive ways , so much so that listening to you speak is very much like watching teenage Hollywood movie junk nowadays , it’s just different faces with recycled dialogue.
When Swedish boy came to visit me the day after seeing Wael , he did so mere minutes after I had closed the door behind a mid 40’s American man from Texas. Whereas the dude from Austin had brought me a bottle of Chardonnay my Swedish pet had brought me a bottle of Akvavit with two shot glasses , and as both bottles remain unopened in my fridge you can see that the tried and tested methods of men fall harmlessly at my foot.
Throughout the session it was hard to hold back laughter as some of the dialogue was being recycled verbatim.
“Please can I kiss you” said the Austin boy as I straddled him on my sofa while leaning in to him exposing my neck to his lips. “Please can I kiss you” said the Swedish boy as we lay in my bed cheek to cheek with my knee draped over the most sensitive part of his body.
I had let Austin kiss me anywhere he liked so long as he didn’t do so on my lips and he worked himself up into such a fervor before the Teasing even started that his testicles were aching by the time I led him to be restrained to my bed.
But with the Swedish boy , I was overcome with that feeling of dedication I was talking about , as I simply knew with him I could get so deep that I could really fuck this boy’s brain up for quite a while.
Some guys are screaming for a girl like me , we’re so hard to find after all. The ones who scream the loudest I can affect the most and so it was with this one.
“Let me go get the shot glasses for us” … a line he tried when I brought my lips a little uncomfortably close to his and paused smiling. As he tried to roll away from my my hand caught the back of his hair and pulled him right back to the prone position beside me that he was trying to escape from.
“Move again without asking me and you’ll be tied to the bed for the rest of the night, understood?”
“The rest of the night?” he asked quizzically.
“You want to don’t you?”
“Yes. Can I stay?” his voice almost a whisper.
“You’ll belong to me if you do.”
“Please, I want that so much.”
“I know you do” i said while mounting him , my tiny silky panties a mere inch from his mouth. “The question is, what will you offer me for granting you such a favor?”
“Anything.”
I looked up the roof of my condo which could have been the sky , the stars , or the universe , for there is nothing more exciting than when a man says he will do anything for me and truly means it.
“Anything?” I repeated his words while sliding down his body , cupping the flag pole in his pants with my feet and bringing my lips within almost touching distance of his. “Kiss me and you’ll leave immediately, understood?” I instructed in a much more mean tone … all the while moving my feet up and down his flag pole.
I had said the same thing to Austin an hour prior as his attack on my neck often led to a foray towards my lips. An hour separating the two , they both replied with the same question :
“Just once, please.”
My fingernail pierced Austin’s shaft just as much as the heel of my shoe pierced Sweden’s in kind reply.
“Say you love me first.”
“I love you” both replied in tandem , again separated by the tiniest of hours.
At that I fell off both of them , at 6pm collapsing onto my sofa and at 7pm collapsing onto my bed.
“If only it were true” i sighed.
Then again, both replied with the exact same line more or less … “I’d do anything for you” Austin had said while Sweden had replied “I’ll do anything to be your boyfriend.”
When they get that close to throwing their hearts at me it’s a very interesting thing to see what happens when i re-engage their dick’s brain , and in both occasions I suddenly started feverishly pumping them to the point of almost immediate orgasm. To them it’s kind of like Bruce Banner turn into the hulk before their very eyes as I completely change the context of the session right there and then making it an entirely physical thing.
Time and time again I stopped a moment before their release , the length of each burst of my hand being inversely proportional to the number of times I refused them their orgasm. During each pause I’d ask “be specific, what will you do when you say anything?”
No man has an answer at that point, they all repeat the word “anything” as if clueless to what that might entail. If I was a bit of a better actor I’d reply with “say anything again motherfucker, I dare you, I double dare you”
That’s a bit cliche though, I’d rather try for something original like “the path of the horny man is beset on all sides by … girls like me 😛 ”
Remember I told you that those who scream the loudest are in my control the most? I didn’t quite get the feeling from Austin that I had him like pudding in my hand , he was smitten but not overwhelmed so I finished his session by letting him explode all over my ceiling.
Sweden , who was a loud silent screamer got no such relief.
“Anything , for you , means to get dressed right now , walk to my condo door , put on your shoes and without looking back leave and write me once you get home telling me what you would do.”
He stared down at his thing which was beat red and bouncing like a bobble head toy.
“Please, don’t tease me like that” he begged.
“You have 30 seconds or you’ll never get a second session with me.”
“I love you.”
“25”
“Please , fuck.”
“20 , if I reach 0 this is the last 20 seconds you’ll ever see me.”
“Fuck” he yells collecting his shorts and socks as he boots it from my bedroom to the hallway.
“15”
I hear him putting his shoes on cursing to himself.
“Mistress, what the fuck , what the fuck.”
“8 .. 7 .. ”
He stands up facing my door.
“I’m naked behind you” I told him , and then adding “but I told you not to look behind you … 4 … 3 … 2”
“For fuck sakes” he cries. “You’re a fucking tease.”
Then he left, without looking back either .. thankfully because I was indeed fully clothed and he would have added “liar” to his “fucking tease” remark.
I never did get the email I requested though. Normally I would block someone permanently for not following through on my request but I was curious since he had seen both of us within a span of 24 hours to ask him who he’d prefer to see on his next session. His reply was a simply written in one short sentence:
“Neither, you’re both too wonderful for me to handle.”
… and isn’t that what I said at the start , we both kill you in our own different way , but we’re both equally deadly.
xx
[one_half][formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half] [one_half_last][formcrafts id=’20566′ name=’Session With Wael’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half_last]
All men in general have this shared fantasy about finding a perfectly innocent yet somewhat homely looking girl that no other man has discovered yet , who is like a diamond in the rough – for when polished with the right makeup , new clothes , alluring hairstyle , she suddenly blossoms into a stunning princess before their eyes. Then of course they’ll take such rare pristine beauty and bang the hell out of her much the same way a cat pisses on a dumpster to claim it’s territory, but hey that’s men for ya.
Such a girl exists , in fact she’s standing right behind me as I write this , blow drying her hair to look pretty for our two hours of Muay Thai downstairs. Hmm, I should have said ‘perfectly innocent yet somewhat naive’ in the sentence above.
I’m somewhat jealous of Mistress Wael’s naive quality , it allows her to see the world through rose colored glasses still and the fact that she can be 36 years old and still see everything as being wonderful and believes all people to be good makes me both smile for her while simultaneously wanting to Clockwork Orange her eyes open.
It mustn’t happen very often over where you guys live to find someone who constantly makes you slap your forehead, bury your face in your palms, or laugh out loud so hard that tears roll down your face. Yet in these parts I’d say less than one per cent are operating their minds with something other than a hamster on a wheel , and with Wael I ashamedly admit that I’ve been the one trying to upgrade her at first getting her running with a Commodore 64 , then an Atari chip and so on until now she’s aware that both Apple and Microsoft are evil and that the truly self-aware folk are running Linux on a Tor onion routing network.
I caution that she’s ‘aware’ but still runs into the blue screen of death quite frequently , and i’m working on that , it just takes time. This story is based on our back to back double mistress session that we shared two nights ago where I saw her default to the blue screen of death in mid session – twice – and it took me half the night to get what happened , and in fact I had one of those moments where one sits up in bed in the middle of the night finally remembering a word that was on the tip of the tongue yet a mile a way just a few hours ago.
I had asked her to come take a video of my Muay Thai lesson that afternoon as it was to be my first day of sparring and not drilling as I had been doing previously for two months. Having seen my Facebook posts about how my training has progressed the past three months other girls in true Thai copycat fashion have begun posting videos of themselves suddenly picking up the sport. I’m an evil Facebook bitch and I really get off on driving mindless hens to cluck madly about why things work out for me and not for them.
The recipe of stacking my FB friend’s list with super hot models , posting photos from being abroad , getting likes and comments from said models on videos of me doing unheard of things like kickboxing , all creates a wave of jealousy and confusion so great that I’ve gotten no less than ten other hating hens to take up the sport to get noticed. I personally don’t give a rats ass in hell if I ever meet another model (well it’d be nice) as I have way more fun stirring the soup of hatred.
The ones who haven’t swallowed enough sperm yet (god knows they die trying though) to get a foreigner retaliate either with similar copycat videos or resort to the time tested but true accusation of unpatriotically using English to coerce ‘Likes’ out of cute men. Those chicks who have replaced their blood with semen parade their ‘look how much money I got my boyfriend to send me” photos or ones of their latest gold purchase. It’s really lame stuff I know , but if you consider for a moment that there are 30 million such Facebook accounts dedicated to the sole purpose of bickering over which one of them scored the biggest sucker … which is from the pool of you guys … well , does the word General Custard ring a bell?
But I digress, the purpose of Wael coming over was to catch me fluently sparring with my trainer , which failed hard. I learned within one minute that while three months of training has gotten me some nice shoulder muscles sprouting , it’s done absolutely nothing in actually learning how to freestyle fight. So she snapped all kinds of video which I can share to you privately if we know one another and while looking at it up in my condo two emails came in successively confirming two double mistress sessions for that evening.
My trainer had dedicated the last 15 minutes of my two hour session to introducing Wael to Muay Thai and while she can somehow handle an hour of fighting men on the mats in Jiu Jitsu class , that fifteen minutes of kicking and punching wiped her out so much that she fell asleep as soon as she finished showering and laid down on my super soft bed. Cute, but it was a bit of a problem as she wasn’t wearing anything remotely sexy , well obviously since she came to train , and time was running too thin for her to zip back to her On Nut condo , change and come back.
Luckily, it’s been her inspiration of late to shrink her previously 60kg body down to 50kg so that she can fit into my jean shorts which I’ve left at her condo since January. Meaning, though it’s still a bit of a stretch to do so , she can now (barely) make it into my clothes so I started scrounging through my closet to find something sexy yet stretchy enough for her to wear.
6pm rolls around and while non of my clothes were becoming to her at all we had managed to find a loose fitting black see through negligee that I used to wear which made her look sexy enough … it’s just that she couldn’t stop picking at her pussy because my panties were way too small and the ones she had worn were not an option being a flat 0 out of 10 in terms of sexiness.
“Stop touching your pussy” I told her as I went downstairs to get the French dude waiting in the lobby.
French dudes, fuck. I bite my tongue pretty well when writing these recollections of my sessions as I know the good comes with the bad but over time it all evens itself out so saying something mean would suggest I’m focusing on one specific person. Mais non, c’est ne pas le verite. I’ve never been to France but my vision of it , based on my experience here with French dudes, is that daily there are sixty six million people commuting but unable to get to where they’re going to because they have absolutely no sense of direction. Truth.
Since January I’ve had a total of 8 people get lost trying to find my condo , even though it’s basically impossible to get lost as it’s one minute from Nana bts station. Every single guy who’s gotten himself lost for hours … French.
Except this guy, I surmise because though he is French he was black skinned and I find most black men are gifted with enough street smarts that they can find my condo without hassle.
So we get back to my condo and Wael who was still struggling with my panties riding up her crack just stops cold when she sees him as if time had been frozen. I think not just Thai’s but Asisan’s in general lose their mind when they are forced to communicate closely with someone of a darker color than us.
I had the luxury of attending school abroad where our group was so ethnically diversified that it not only washed the Asian part of me away but I grew to love and embrace people of different ethnic backgrounds , but it was clear from the time freeze that Wael was caught in that this dude was the first black person she had come face to face with. Consider that even though she is technically from Chiang Rai , her home is so far out in the boonies that the only black people she’s ever seen have been on television.
After sending him scurrying off to the bathroom to shower I asked her if she’s ok with things and she said yes while confessing that she’s never seen a black guy naked.
“Neither have I” I admitted and when she asked me shyly “is it true” while gesturing a with her hands a penis size appropriate for a small dinosaur I laughed back “we’ll see in a moment won’t we.”
Once he finished the shower and stepped into my bedroom where things were about to get sexy I glanced over to Wael where once again she was caught in another time freeze , this time with jaw so gaping wide that bees could have built a beehive inside.
This is where experience in the bedroom comes in because you see , I’ve seen well over 1000 guys naked and I’ve seen them all … fat, skinny, hairy , smooth, albino, black, brown, whatever. Same goes for dick size and shape, at this point a guy’s tool is just a piece of meat to me. Wael on the other hand has seen a fraction of what I’ve seen so things still shock her. In this case, what was befuddling her was this guys unusual body hair.
He looked like he had a sea of the world’s smallest affro curls covering his body from head to toe, each one curled so tightly into a ball that you could rest a ping pong paddle anywhere on his body and it wouldn’t touch his skin.
Wael excuses herself from the room and while I’m talking to him , getting him to relax into the sound of my sexy voice , there’s clanging going on in my kitchen outside. Moments later she comes back with an Aerosol spray can , all my candles and a book of matches.
“…the fuck are you doing?” I asked her in Thai.
“We have to burn it off first, no?” she asks.
“What the hair? You want to carpet bomb his body in fire Game of Thrones style?”
“Yes.”
She answered ‘yes’ so truthfully and with such innocence that I couldn’t contain myself from laughing hysterically. There was no malice or ill will in her action , she simply intended to do for this person the kind service of removing his hair.
That’s the thing about Wael. She does not have the ability to think an unkind thought , nor does she ever do something with an alternate motive , she simply serves, helps, and teases the hell out of guys for the purest of all reasons … that teasing brings enjoyment and she exists to help others.
She is the most altruistic person I’ve ever met and my fear for her is that it’s going to get her hurt one of these days.
The world through my eyes has been tainted and for the most part I see humans as an evil infestation , a species with such a disproportionate ratio of those who seek to be self indulgent and reckless vesus those who wish to better the planet that it’s pointless to attempt to do good. It’s why I support animals , they’re actions are pure.
Two hours later he stumbles out the door clutching his balls just as much as Wael is clutching at my panties and we clean the condo and toys in preparation for the next session about to arrive shortly. He’s an older gentleman, 50’ish though he looks easily like he’s still in his early 40’s and as older men are apt to do , he’s totally smitten by Wael and less so by me. It’s his third session with her but it was the first time I’ve seen him which again isn’t uncommon as older men much prefer her to me … I just wasn’t sure as to why … well this session gave me my answer.
Fast forward towards the end of the first hour where I’m straddling Mark’s neck with his arms and legs spread-eagle’d on the bed and tied down quite securely. We both play this game frequently where we let the submissive guy touch , smell , or taste a part of us that he covets , but he is forbidden to lick, suck, bite or move his mouth or hands in any manner whatsoever. In this case I had placed his hand over the top of my lingerie where he could feel my perky nipple between his fingers.
If he wants to advance in the game and sample other goodies he must first show that his hand can remain motionless while Wael is slowly bringing him closer and closer to a climax , but skillfully easing off each time. One twitch, one quiver, one false squeeze of the fingers while my clothed nipple lays between them spells not only an immediate end to the game , but beckons punishment and severely reduces the chance either of us will give him the release he is begging for nearer to the end of the session.
Luckily for him he passes the test with flying colors and just as I am about to move up over his face Wael gets up and gestures that she wants to do the face sitting part of the session. Now, the last time I actually worked together with Wael was a little over a month and a half ago. The month of May had me attending weddings in two different cities , flying to Bali for 10 days thereafter, and spending the final week up in Chiang Mai so there was a good 5-6 week period where Wael was handling all the sessions solo.
In all previous sessions together, she’s masterfully controlled the man’s orgasm while I’ve dealt with playing with the man’s mind , cuddling and coddling all of them cheek to cheek, finding out what their truest deepest fantasy is and finding how much of their soul they’ll sell to share that fantasy with us.
So to have her put the cart before the horse so to speak by switching roles was somewhat surprising but we always bounce ideas off one another and go with the flow trusting one another so we traded off.
Just as I do before smothering his face with her panties she looks down at him saying, “don’t move, don’t lick, don’t suck, don’t do anything or else.”
All is going according to plan. I’ve focused on running my fingers along the shaft of his cock , up and around the circumference of the head, and then with a squirt of oil pulling his shaft taunt and squeezing hard along the base waiting for his dick to swell up and try to thrust the cum out by itself. That tactic is more or less always accompanied by the man moaning or begging , and to be honest I’m so used to hearing “a” sound at that moment it went right over my head that the moaning I heard sounded a hell of a lot like a girl moaning.
Once again I pull the skin of his cock up high so it covers his head and while pressing in with my thumb hard against his cock shaft my left hand rubs oil into the bottom of his balls in a circular motion slowly at first and then increasingly faster so his testicles begin to warm up … but the cum has nowhere to go as it’s being blocked by the pressure of my thumb on the vein that allows the cum to release upwards.
Once again this tactic is met with the thrusting of the hips upwards and load moaning , but this time when I heard her moan I looked back over my shoulder to see what was going on with this guy from the neck up.
Her lips are quivering and she’s trying to squeak out “don’t move, don’t lick” warnings but her eyes are rolled to the back of her head and her nails have dug themselves so far into his nipples that he’s kicking his feet from the pain of it.
I lean over far to my left to get a better view of what he’s doing by looking at his jaw line from under her thigh and sure enough it’s moving rapidly. Then it hits me why this guy and all the other guys are faithfully hers , and it’s because they can get her off by sucking through her panties, a feat that stopped working on me and any other girl when we’re … oh … 16yo maybe. There it is though, she hasn’t had any lovers, any sex, any boyfriends to give her some sort of release from foreplay and facesitting gives her a long desired orgasm.
Fuck, if a guy even so much made his lips quiver while in that position his balls would remember a pain so intense that it’d haunt him for the rest of his days. In fact, the last guy to try that got to wear my cactus plant on his balls one second thereafter and howled so loud I’m sure people living in the condo across the street heard him. The original Mistress Jaa would bend down and firmly bite down on the guys dick if they moved making sure she left a semi-permanent mark on the sensitive part of his head for his failure to follow instructions.
I felt like I needed to act as her boss at the end of the session and tell her to be more strict in making her submissive’s follow her instructions. Right after he left I was about to discuss the session with her but when I closed the door and turned around I noticed right away just how far my tiny panties were rolled up straddling her pussy. Her pussy lips looked like they had devoured my panties completely and the back end of them was so far up her ass crack that she had to use her index finger to scoop it out.
So I asked her , “what did he do to you?”
She answers back in Thai what translates to “he blew on my grape.”
“Your grape?”
“He made it so hot by blowing on it with his cheeks , and then …” she paused looking shyly to the floor.
“and then?” i begged her to continue, wanting her to say it so badly.
“He ate my grape.”
I collapsed onto the sofa with laughter. She sat down beside me innocent as an angel and asked “why you laugh?”
“and did you like having your grape eaten?”
“Amazing” she gasped.
“How many times has somebody eaten your grape?”
“Not first time. Four maybe five times now.”
I had wanted to scold her on how to make sure she is in complete control , to not let any man betray her order , yada yada yada. But since she’s like me and practices being thoroughly safe it occurred to me that at her age, mid thirties, I don’t think anyone has ever sucked her grape with panties off lol.
I’m way to shy to ask her if that’s so , but is it strange to say that the day somebody does , I hope it’s in session and I hope I’m there to see it happen.
xx
[one_half][formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half] [one_half_last][formcrafts id=’20566′ name=’Session With Wael’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half_last]
I could tell instantly from the look of horror written across my masseuses eyes that the first thing she had seen on me as I turned over to lay on my back was the massive black and blue morass that infested both my shins. It concerned her so much that she delicately avoided the area entirely as her massage progressed from my feet up towards my thighs. At last she couldn’t take it any longer I guess and she meekly whispered so as to be barely audible by anyone else but us :
“You shouldn’t let him hit you like that. Take it from me , I would leave him tonight, right now.” To which my immediate response was simply, “who?”
“Him, the man who did this to you” at first directing her gaze at my battered legs, and then touching the other black and blue parts on my body, my elbows, the instep of my foot, my shoulder , to name a few.
“Let’s be clear” I retorted , “It is me who hits men , and this bruising is from me kicking the stuffing out of my trainers Muay Thai pads every day.”
“Do you fight?” she asked.
“No, men pay me to hit them” I smiled back as I said that.
“Mai dee” she shook her head disapprovingly as she spoke, it’s meaning being “not good at all” in English. After that there was once again silence in our little massage room as there had been for the first hour of my massage, but now the air stood heavy with an uncomfortable silence. On or about the 10th “mai dee” from her mouth which was always followed by a “tsk tsk tsk” sound, I sort of half sat up and said to her, in Thai , “when we started an hour ago you said I was the perfect girl with the most perfect body and now …?”
“You not proper Thai lady, I see now.” she said. Which as I laid back to – not really enjoy the last half of my massage – I contemplated :
If I didn’t live in such a self-manifesting condescending society , would I still truly be “the perfect woman?”
Well, from a man’s perspective, what qualities need to be present to constitute the perfect woman? See that’s a tough question because to a man there are two types of women, the type you marry and the type you fuck. Perfection therefore, lays somewhere between, because a girl will therefore be considered desirable by all men. This week, in conversations with both my real life male friends and submissive’s alike , I asked for one word answers of what makes a woman perfect per se and the top 3 words from a survey of about 50 men were :
Naughty , Intelligent , Wild
That’s interesting isn’t it? I wish the sample size was larger as those words seem to portray an elusive girl that a man cannot fully control or comprehend. That’s me. It also happens to be the anti-thesis of how we’re taught to be in school. To be certain, I was as close to being an anti-Christ figure as one could be back in my school days. When we were being repeatedly drilled with the “12 Core Values of Being Thai” I checked and double checked, but didn’t see “burning all of my parents clothes” or “throwing sis’s bike in the river” as being included. I didn’t improve much as I grew older either – i had hoofed my first set of ‘nards by the time I was 15 , spat down a boy’s throat at 16 , hit my last teacher at 17 and broke a guy’s nose at 18 … and last night as well but we’ll get to that a bit later on.
This week, as measured from last Monday to yesterday (Tuesday) had three separate occasions where I was verbally called “perfect” by three different people, and in every single instance it was almost simultaneously pointed out to me that my behavior was not “perfectly Thai” which delighted me to no end as I strive constantly to be as anti-thai as possible.
The instance of being Naughty occurred right down stairs here in my condo’s gym. Every afternoon, or errr … now it’s gonna be every other afternoon to give my legs time to recover … I’m down in the gym with my trainer banging out two hours of Muay Thai, but that’s not the end of my workout. I always hang around after he leaves to do an extra thirty minutes of weights and it’s about that time that another resident has taken it upon himself to ‘coincidentally’ be working out just as my Muay Thai wraps up.
Now he’s 50’ish , but the type of fifty that works out in the gym like he’s still 22 and struts instead of walks, you know? I equate it to how a peacock fans his feathers , except , he looks more like a Marabou Stork than a Peacock. So, he sets his incline sit up bench 45 degrees steeper than mine and while holding a weight to his chest he tries to disguise the fact he’s giving himself a hernia by deciding that’s the best time to break the ice with me:
“What’s a tiny hot girl like you doing Muay Thai for?”
“I want to learn to fight” I say.
“Sexy girl like you should be a lover not a fighter?”
To which I figure, why not – let’s give this guy an instant erection and I ask him frankly “why, you want to be my lover? I fired my last one.”
When I said that he stopped mid sit up and I was sure the 20lb weight was going to make him prolapse his ass right there as we spoke because he was just frozen in that position searching for an adequate reply.
“You’re naughty.’ he says.
“I am” I said hitting the ball back to his court immediately. Your serve.
He then did that thing with his hand that men do where they rub their mustache stubble with their index finger, a subconscious replacement for the word “hmm”. He glances over his shoulder disapprovingly at the only other person in the gym room with us, a portly fifty-something year old walking her way to Timbuktu on the treadmill at a pace that would get her there sometime in the next millennium.
“You know” he begins, and he’s lowered the tone of his voice down to the octave sound range reserved for sexy talk, “I have some time…”
“Daddy Daddy , mommy wants to see you now” shouts out his ever so cute six-ish year old daughter as she bursts into the room and looks somewhat taken aback by the proximity of daddy to a much younger hot sweaty chick.
The poor guy, he looked like he had his soul, his liver, and his heart all ripped out of him at the same time. His daughter’s words were more life destroying than Magneto sucking iron from a prison guards body.
“Good-bye daddy daddy, mommy’s waiting” I said with a bite of my lip.
“Fuck you’re perfect, did you know that?’ was his final comment to me as he spun around, changed persona, and picked up his daughter all in the same second, glancing back one last time though as he disappeared for the elevator. I have no doubt that at some point that night he squeezed one out dreaming of what might have been … you know … had he not gotten married and torpedoed his shot at ever being spontaneous again.
Then as I’m toweling off and leaving the gym Orca chick on the treadmill throws a casual “mai dee” (not good) my way and get this, she lifts her chin up and continues walking all the while sort of gazing up at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. lmao. Being only the first of three times someone would throw a similar comment at me within 48 hours it didn’t even occur to me to say something back to her, I instead just ignored her and went back to my condo to shower.
Intelligence. I think it’s the quality that makes men the most turned on by a woman. Case in point:
to me
So, I saw your picture on the website and I thought wow, looks good. But often website and reality are not the same. Haha
Then I met you and I was pleasantly surprised and felt something so I’m intrigued. I have to come back and see you… So I came back and I feel just as good with you and by the time I left I like you even more. Your fun and smart and sexy!! Perfect combination.
But the moment that really wanted to just jump you and I know I fell for you in an uncontrollable way was when we were doing the room escape. There was one moment when I was putting the transparencies over the picture or mirror or something and started reading what I thought it said. You just started writing it on the white board and then found the missing letters and got the code like instantly. I wanted to just go over to you and kiss you right then! I’m addicted!!
Though I’ve been asked out by thousands, I’ve only fucked three guys in three years. What do you suppose the common denominator was to the difference in approach of all three? Pretty girls get told they’re pretty so often it has no effect , yet “you’re stunning” “you’re beautiful” and “you’re gorgeous” are the three most commonly used ice-breaking lines guys use when approaching me.
To save both my time and theirs my immediate retort is always the same “you just lost your chance” – which laughingly instantaneously changes their demeanor and I get hit with “wow you’re not friendly at all” as their next line. It’s exponentially more annoying when men try the same approach via text messaging. Sending me a photo of your hairy chest and semi-fat stomach isn’t going to get my pussy juices leaking down my leg – but all guys think they are hot in some way, it’s like a self induced mass hypnosis thing going on.
The few who appeal to my intelligence , they find the map to the golden monkey.
Rewind to last weekend where I’m out with Mistress Wael , one of her Jiu Jitsu girlfriends – a very classy middle society girl who studied for her Masters degree in London (my dream), and we’re put at a table with an obviously ‘wealthy by familial association’ hi-so chick and her tag-a-long friend of equal intellectual fluff. The final chair was eventually taken by a strikingly handsome American man who was literally attacked in conversation by those two hi-so girls who were completely smitten that he could converse with them in Thai. Which meant to me that he’s a resident – and removes any and all interest on my part – which possibly he picked up on as a quarter of an hour later I hadn’t once engaged him in any conversation whatsoever so he leaned over and initiated with me.
Shockingly, he was from Boston and having been down that road before I asked him if he was a Red Sox fan and asked him to say “I parked the car in Harvard Yard.” That led to conversations about the Bruins, the Freedom Trail, the Boston Tea Party , and yada – yada – yada thirty minutes later he’s begging me for my phone number for the third time and I’m stonewalling him each time.
“I’m gonna go buy you a drink” he says and excuses himself to go do just that. Ok fine, I begin to talk to Wael as I feel bad she was sort of left alone there when the hi-so chick barks over to me in Thai “why do feel the need to speak so much English, you’re Thai, be Thai.”
I’ve been to ten countries now in the world, I can tell you without a doubt that if I had a million conversations in each of the places I’ve been not one person would take it upon themselves to be so brainwashed as to think that speaking any language but their own is some sort of faux pas. For instance, you would never ever catch a Canadian leaning over at a restaurant in Vancouver to tell a Vietnamese couple to kindly speak English because they are presently in Canada. I get the sense that might well happen in France though – as French people and I clash like you wouldn’t believe. If there’s two people who deserve each other it’s French and Thai’s.
Mr.Boston the 2nd (inside joke) comes back with three champagne glasses , one for Wael, himself and I – and none for the other two lmao – and he says “what shall we toast to.”
“The green monster” i say back.
“Fine, to the Green Monster” and we clink our glasses and say “Cheers”
I look over at the two excluded from the clinking and say “We say Cheers in English, it means Fuck you”
That did it. Squawk, squawk, squawk – she bursts out in gutter level profane Thai , and the dude is astonished thinking “what the fuck just happened”
I told him “if there actually was a Yellow Brick Road , she’d crawl and kiss it” , then I took a last sip of the champagne … cuz why let good stuff like that go to waste haha … and asked Wael if she’d be fine to leave, and apologized to her friend as we had attended on her behalf. I tell you, with other Thai’s we’re like water and oil, I don’t mix at all with them.
“Wait” he says, placing his hand gently on my shoulder. “You’re the most perfect girl I’ve met here and I’ve been here a long time, cant’ I see you?”
“Nope”
“Why not”
“Because … you’ve been here for a very long time. That’s why.”
“Geez you’re not very friendly” he says standing up very straight , lol, i guess the fall from perfection is a swift one huh?
I think being told a second time that I wasn’t very Thai was creating a built up anger somewhere in my sub-conscious, simply because it’s so mind boggling to me in some sort of way, even though I live here and I’m from here … that I’m the girl being screamed at in the final scene of Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
So keep in mind that I was heedlessly fostering this resentment to those two chicks, and include if you will that for the past few months I’ve been punching pads for 2 hours every afternoon. Because as one of you has found online, there’s a nasty picture of me today in a Thai gossip website which captures a glimpse of what happened last night at a new club’s grand opening private galla event. I’m not defending myself , I’m just saying “hey … here’s the backstory of why that may of happened, and chill out because to me it was fucking funny.”
My very best friend, gay guy that I’ve known for years got an invite to this hi-so club’s private party .. to which if you’ve ever been to one, it’s by invite only, and those who get invited are the hottest looking Thai chicks, even hotter looking foreigner male models , media, and well-to-do Thai’s who want to rub elbows with one another and be seen at such an event.
I got in in my head that since there were going to be so many gorgeous looking people there that I would be the one to turn all their heads and I raped my closet looking for the sexiest combo I could find , thinking that I’d go as a modern day Cleopatra of sorts. Well, it ended up that I looked a hell of a lot more like Salma Hayak from her role in the movie From Dusk ‘Til Dawn , so much so that I was considering somehow incorporating a Python into my selection of attire.
Last night, or well, two nights ago as I’m continuing this story here on Wednesday, was the hottest I’ve ever looked I think. It was definitely the boldest I’ve ever been. We, as Thai’s are a finicky bunch – it’s great to be hot and sexy until – it’s not ok to be hot and sexy , know what I mean? There’s this “oh no she didn’t” standard here that doesn’t exist in say , Los Angeles California or South Beach, Miami where hot is hot without limits.
Now you don’t wear something this skimpy and show up for the ribbon cutting ceremony so we showed up just after 11pm when the drinking and dancing was getting underway , and right away I caused 30 or 40 whiplash casualties walking in from the taxi.
Just as much as they were drooling, so was I , there were hot dudes a plenty at the place – and guess who they were all eyeballing? I was ready to own men’s minds that evening, all I needed was for the music to start going, get a few drinks in me and I would have owned the dance floor.
Would have.
For whatever reason , and it started a while ago but has pleasingly gotten out of control , I have been inundated with friend requests on my Facebook from male models. All it took was one session with a hot hot submissive model who added me on his Facebook – and then a few tags later and voila – my Facebook for me is like a Playgirl magazine of deliciousness. One these model dudes , the guy in the photo here to be exact , added me just over a month ago , and like the rest of them – I have no idea who they are in real life.
Except, this guy not only exists , but he was in attendance at that same party and wouldn’t you know it, he actually recognized me as his Facebook friend. Him and his girl friend , also a model and working the event with him approach me where I’m sitting with my gay friend who began squeezing the life blood out of my hand as the two came and sat down at our table. To me it was like , well .. I guess it’s like seeing Hercules in a movie and then suddenly , poof ..,. Hercules is sitting at your table and all you can think of saying is .. “hey, you’re Hercules , you’re that guy.” Then my mind goes blank and silently I”m blabbering “hercules, hercules, hercules” like the grandmother in The Nutty Professor ..
His girlfriend slips away to do something else and he sits there with his face cupped his palms , elbows on the table , looking at me like he’s completely smitten with me. My gay friend is sitting with the same look in the same smitten posture, all the while kicking the shit out of my already badly bruised shins below the table. But this dude is the loyal type , he’s not hitting on me, he’s not flirting with me, he is just simply sitting down and genuinely wanting to get to know someone he is “friends” with but is meeting for the first time.
All the while, I am even more genuinely wanting to get onto the dance floor with all the super hot guys who are now shyly glancing up at me one by one as our table is adjacent to where they’re all dancing and if they reached up they could touch my ankle , i’m that close to them.
Then it hits me why all the shy looks from below. This guy is cock blocking me. Or pussy blocking , or whatever you want to call the act of prohibiting all the hot young models from dancing with Salma Hayak , who desperately wants to get her ‘snake-on’ and start rubbing asses down there.
When this dude added me as his friend and I first checked him out I was like “oh god, fuck me sideways, how do I go about knowing this guy” and now that he was here in front of me I couldn’t get rid of him fast enough.
Right at the pinnacle of my frustration , an old woman who was 80 kilos of walking oatmeal comes right up to me and stops just long enough to whisper over to me in our language , “your clothes are not suitable for being Thai” and then starts to walk away. I yelled out to her, in English, “you’re a fat hairy bitch, goony goo goo”
She continues sauntering off and inside, I’ve snapped. That was the third fucking time inside of 72 hours I’ve been told I’m not perfectly Thai , and at this point I had a fever, and the only prescription … was dancing with hot dudes.
I turn around and Hercules begins asking me what that was all about but I cut him off mid sentence.
“If you don’t go away, like right now at this instant, I’m going to punch you in the nose.” I said curtly.
He laughed. As if that wasn’t enough , he baited me by saying “if that’s what it takes then go ahead, punch me in the nose, I want to get to know y…”
Bang.
My left cross connected precisely with the bridge of his nose, my wrist finishing it’s rotation as it did so and then returning to my guard – just as I had been taught every day for the past few months as proper technique.
I have no excuse as to why I did it , I’m certainly not violent – outside of my sessions at least. I wasn’t really punching him per se , for in my mind I was simultaneously punching the three chicks who had deemed it necessary to scold me on my lack of Thai-ness the past few days. Now I’m like 45 kilos soaking wet , so this was really very much like David attacking Goliath and just as it went down in the story , Goliath or in this case Hercules had fallen mightily to the ground, crashing into the table behind us as he did so , which in turn spilled the table behind it knocking two other people out of their chairs.
I could hear the collective gasp over the pounding music from those seated around us.
A trickle of blood leaked from his nose as he looked up at me more with astonishment than anger, thankfully.
“I told you.” is all I said. No apologies, that would be so unbecoming of me. Then there was the flash of a camera , and there you have the essence of the photo in that online magazine, me standing over this Herculean model having “caused a vulgar scene” at the caption says.
There was nothing vulgar about it. I warned him, he chose to ignore the warning, and as it’s in my nature to do, I followed through with the warning. It’s been my signature all my life. I told them I was going to burn the clothes if things didn’t change before I did it. I warned there would be the consequence of fetching a bicycle from the swampy river if it wasn’t shared equally with me , and just then I had told him there would be a punch to the nose.
I guess guys appreciate honesty for do you know what he said when he finally got up?
“You’re fucking perfect you know that?”
Yes I am … just not perfectly Thai , and that’s perfect by me 🙂
What would be your superhero power? Invisibility? Teleportation?
Suppose your ability, if granted, was flawed, like … The ability to run blindingly fast but without the ability to stop? lol
I don’t need one for I’ve been granted one at birth and that is the ability to make men say “I Love You” to me. Well maybe not at birth as I was pretty freaking ugly until I came back to Thailand at 24yo , and even then I haven’t really blossomed into a swan until just the past two and a half years. If you consider that I do about 500 sessions per year, I’m able to seduce on average 50% of all men just enough in those short two hours to make them blurt out “I Love You” , therefore I hear those words spoken to me about 250 times between January and Christmas.
The deepest desire of all men is to be truly loved by an angel of magnificent beauty.
That’s quite a statement, and let’s be clear about something, which is that while I know men consider me very attractive I’m by no means an angel of such beauty. The trick therefore is to make men believe that I am, which I must say I do remarkably well …
[content_box width=”” minheight=”” bgColor=”rgba(27,39,64,1)” textColor=”rgba(192,182,153,1)” rounded=”true” align=”center”] jaa4u.com | Goddess <[email protected]> Apr 26 to Franz
i gave you 3 days to let the memory fade a bit. How do you feel now that more time has passed? Still enjoyed the session as much?
Franz Apr 26 to me
Dear Mistress, thank you so much for your Email! I had to jump over to Germany on two long flights and overcome the jetlag a little bit, so I didn’t write earlier.
But what a question – did I enjoy the session? My nipples still hurt a bit when I touch them and that makes me smile with a broad grin. Even with the timely distance and the long distance in space that now lies between us ( 🙁 ) I still must say that this session with you was gorgeous and beyond words. You know, I’m not that inexperienced and I had some sessions in my life so far, but this was really special. It was gentle and cruel at the same time, full of compassion but also sooo mean. And funny! I liked that we also could laugh together. And I turned really melancholic when I looked out of the back window of that taxi seeing the both of you waving and getting smaller and smaller until you disappeared. So there was an emotional side for me two, which is the biggest difference of all.
And you were right, when you wrote I will find after the session that I met a pretty normal girl. So it was! A normal girl, that knows how to treat a man and how to play with a man’s mind but at the same time being all lovely and human. That is very special and I hope you can keep that. But I’m pretty sure you will. I just hope it wasn’t too boring for you, since I put off that frightening sounding thing in the beginning. And also Wael was gorgeous – no one ever massaged me like this. And she is so loyal towards you, when I tried to ask her to be not so cruel to me she always replied with the sweetest smile: “But I can’t.”
It was gorgeous and it touched my heart. And I so much hope, I will be able to see you again. I was really sad to leave Bangkok. On the way to the airport I tried to spot your condo and I did the same from the window in the plane. But of course it wasn’t possible. Back in Germany I was greeted with snow!! And I was thinking – oh no, I want to go back to your condo immediately. :/ To answer your question again: Yes – it was a great night for me and I wish it could have lasted longer. There was a time in this game I would have done almost everything for you. That was when I said “I love you”.
It might have sounded stupid, but that’s what it felt like. I could be all myself, all this naughty perverted boy and you knew exactly how to pull my triggers. And also you are intelligent and life experienced which made me like you very much. It’s sure I have to find a way to get back to Bangkok. But for now it’s work, work, work for me. 🙁 Damn it! I miss you and I am very thankful for this great time I was allowed to spend with you. And I dearly hope it will not have been the last time..
XXX Franz
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I have a litany of such letters that I’m rather shy to parade in front of you , I’d rather you come and find out for yourself the sincerity of my sessions rather than devote a cheesy testimonial page to showcase them all. The truth of the matter though is that I can touch men’s hearts through these femdom sessions and it’s quite a pleasure to be able to do so as I get quite a giggle out of the joy it brings men expressed through wonderful letters like this one.
The session from that testimonial came to a close fairly late that evening and though it was a mid-week session I had a lot of energy immediately after it ended as delightful two hours of fun like that often do energize me to the point that relaxing would be pointless. Right on cue, my now former close friend (you’ll see why as this story unfolds) sent me a Line message asking me if I wanted to go out dancing that evening. I figured ‘why not’ as the calendar was quite clear for a few days so there wouldn’t be pressure to catch up on my sleep as I tend to dance until the sun rises. <— thus all my broken shoes.
An hour later we’ve met up and are hanging out in Ku-De-Ta once again , she’s on the dance floor and I’m at the table with a couple of girls and guys they had met drinking away when suddenly I see their eyes literally bulge out of their sockets simultaneously and one , the chunky Dutch girl actually spit out her beer a bit as the splash landed a bit on my hand. It’s a reaction that one rarely sees and it was so exaggerated that I was sure that perhaps Garrosh the Orc from World of Warcraft had swooped in behind me and was about to behead me with his war axe.
I turn around expecting to see fangs and drool , and well , I saw one of the two … drool and lots of it , coming from my friends mouth as she had what I’d have to say is one of the world’s top ten most handsome dudes hanging on her arm. She was practically dry humping his leg as she walked over to us and though she’s Thai she blurted out in English “look what I found” as if she had just come back from a fishing tournament on the Dog Shit river in New Zealand (tutaekuri).
My pussy quivered. Really. Right there and then it just violently shook and let out a squeak that secretly said ‘omg fuck me sideways.’ All thoughts of banging the hell out of Chris Hemsworth (Thor) in my fantasies went right out the window along with all the dudes from the TV Series Spartacus who I’ve scratched pussy over a million times for, all replaced by this real-life walking Titan of a man.
My “friend” has more plastic floating in her than the ocean does and she’s practically written The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Gold Digging in Thai. Too bad for her that when she isn’t sucking on things words can’t fill her mouth equally as well … an epidemic problem among all girls in my country sadly. 70% of men here actually like to have a conversation with a girl once in a while , 95% if we bomb Pattaya off the earth (nein bitte nicht!!!) and so it wasn’t long that as we talked around the table her guy was directing his questions and comments over to me which is a dangerous thing to do while my intoxication meter is rising. If you think I’m opinionated sober … look out when I get tipsy.
Well wouldn’t you know it, over time he becomes less interested in anyone else and rather than dancing we sit and talk about – of all things – whether he’d bang Shrillary Clinton or Angela Merkel and why nobody thinks Obama has a black man sized penis. That’s some pretty extraneous foreplay wouldn’t you say? It wasn’t even foreplay per se , it was just like a improvisational dialogue of comedy in which only the wine and whiskey allowed anything to be remotely humorous.
When he asked me to dance an hour later and walked me out to the dance floor I was acutely aware that his hand dwarfed mine the way a mountain would encase a diamond and for a second I had a flash thought of how Cinderella might have felt. Except in Disney’s version , Cinderella’s Prince Charming wasn’t mobbed and torn at by wild Issan Dingo Cats. Honestly, until that night I had been unaware at just how predatory hi-so tumbleweed brained Isaan chicks are as they had no qualms whatsoever about not only stepping in between me and him but apparently openly groping his genitals and lunging for a flying french kiss is perfectly acceptable behaviour to them as well. That proved to me once and for all that they are all indeed the retarded offspring of five monkeys having butt sex with a fish squirrel.
At some point I just shrugged my shoulders at him as he was gang tackled by a pygmy tribe and he was whisked away leaving me to retreat back to my table where a none too happy friend was waiting for me with arms crossed and a scowl so deeply ingrained across her forehead that when put together with her northern Thai nose and gaping eyes she looked remarkably like a female Shrek in that moment.
I was just thinking “oh great, here we go” when she laid into me with a sentence that had a 3:1 ratio of cuss words to real Thai words , which was really unnecessary as the mantra of her message was quite clear from the outset : You no take candle!
At one point she was willing to sacrifice her 200 baht replica Gucci purse in exchange for busting it over my head but one of the guys at the table stopped it mid flight. So while being modestly restrained she yelled over at me time after time “what makes you so special?” in Thai.
I took my seat, poured a shot of whiskey, downed it and slapped the shot glass on the table all Marion-like from Raiders of the Lost Ark , and glancing over at her I casually mentioned that I can talk about things with men that she can’t.
“Lor?” she says , Thai for ‘really?’ and asks “like what’ suddenly switching to English for the first time.
“Are you the lemon?” I asked.
“Arai?” (what?)
“Are you the lemon?” and then I asked the other 2 guys at the table the same question “are you the lemon? are you the lemon?” to no reply, just looks of amusement on all their faces. Except for Shrekella who was insistent on knowing what was the deal lemons all of a sudden.
I told her, “when you can answer properly, ‘are you the lemon’ , you will know that squatting monkeys tell no lies … and then and only then … will you get a guy like him.”
To which, I guess she only caught the word monkey and went ape-shit (pun intended) insisting she was not a monkey, which was silly since it was quite obvious she was a fish-squirrel and not a monkey at all.
You know, I take private Muay Thai lessons and while I’m probably the least qualified female Thai fighter in my country , I guess what these lessons keep teaching me is to check my ego at the door , which in turn allows me to recognize that altercations such as this one aren’t worth the energy. I don’t have that inner peace that comes from being Buddhist either , cuz I’m not, just like the clip alludes to above I tend to think all religions are hogwash. In my mind I was aiming all sorts of missiles, cannons, crossbows at her head just like Ralph Wolf does at the end of this cartoon clip …
Instead, I decided to step outside of the club for a few moments to let things settle down. I can’t say ‘cool down’ because stepping outside in Bangkok after dancing is like jumping from an oven into a sauna to cool down, and secretly I long to once again have a moment where I can step outside at 3am to a blast of cool air (Candy’s Apartment, woo!!!).
I hunched down to mop up the sweat that was leaking down my face trying to stop it before it destroyed my mascara. Last thing I wanted was to look like the ‘Leave Brittney Alone’ girl.
“Here, use this” I heard over my shoulder and I turned around to see that better version of Thor guy offering me a silk handkerchief – wow classy move. “Geez, that’s like a clip from a movie” I thought and I took the purple thing out of his hand and patted my head with it.
The smart ass Mistress side of me really, and I mean “really” wanted to fold it in half, place it in my pocket and say cooly “I’l give it back to you once I’ve wiped other parts of me with it”. Except whereas you guys expect something like that to fly out of my mouth and you have the context from which it came given that I’m a Mistress , he’d have absolutely no idea why I’d be saying something like that and it would land giving wrong intentions.
After all I’m a good girl , wouldn’t want anybody thinking about what those other parts of my body might look like , I need to protect my innocen…
“Hey you feel like getting out of here and going back to my place or yours?”
“I haven’t been laid in ages” … (don’t freaking say that, why did that sentence even pop into my head, holly hell) for that’s exactly what popped into my head looking up at most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen and dealing with his proposal.
As I told you , until about two years ago I was quite the ugly duckling and the guys who had propositioned me were inconsequential in terms of looks, until recently. It must be the confidence one gets from just knowing any man is easily seduced, I think guys pick up on that. This year and last I’ve had a few hotties want to roll with me in bed but even though I’ve had my own condo for nearly a year now, I’ve always gone to sleep by myself having turned down every single offer to get laid.
It’s because of this crazed notion that I have that one day I’ll find a guy who is genuinely immediately interested in what I bring to the table in terms of personality , wittiness , intelligence , humour and so on. I know I’m extremely hot , and I know guys have this craving inside them that says “I have to know what it’s like to bang that” when they see me. Unlike men, I can get sex easily, at any moment.
In this case though, as I had just seen from his narrow escape from the pygmy’s inside, this dude was one of those very rare men that can also have sex whenever and with whomever he wants. So here was an interesting offer. A guy who can bed any girl he wishes, propositioning a girl who similarly can bed any guy I choose. I just got it in my brain at that moment that this situation could be elevated to a challenge, the ultimate counter seduction if you will. When two people, hot as hell, get together and the sex seems inevitable, what would happen if I could turn the tables on the hottest guy in Germany and make him desire me even more than he realized.
In fact, could I even draw those three words out of him that I seem to so easily draw out of everybody I session with?
“My place is close, let’s go.” I replied as I threw down the gauntlet. Indeed the gloves were off and this night, now approaching 3:30am was about to get very interesting indeed.
In a be-careful-what-you-wish-for scenario, there was a moment in the taxi going to my place that made me realize the size of the challenge before me. We were talking, laughing, and I had drank just enough to be in that wishy-washy place between tipsy and drunk where decisions are not quite yet spontaneous, but nearly so. He said something funny, I laughed, and he put his fingers on my cheek saying that I look beautiful when I smile. He leaned over towards me and instead of kissing him I sank my head downwards onto his shoulder and closed my eyes acting like I was fine with cuddling him.
The girth of his chest was noticeable with my head rested on his left pec muscle and when he wrapped his arms around me I felt tiny, like a cub resting in it’s mother’s underbelly. When his hand came to rest around my waist and touched the inside of my thigh without moving I could feel my panties just getting soaked with my juice and I was irritated that such a simple placement of a hand could send her into a frizzy. That’s like surrendering a chess match on an opponent’s opening pawn to e4 move. If we’re using chess as a metaphor for a game of seduction, then I’m a bad ass chess playing motherfucking master ok, – and I quietly scolded my pussy so she’d remember that.
Except, pussy’s, mine especially, don’t give a rats ass about chess. What she cares about is that this guys hand is the size of a foot, and by extrapolation, if the hand is that big , then … well, the drill won’t just be hitting oil but it’ll most likely be banging the walls on the way down as well. /shudder
Minutes later we’re in my condo and the smart ass guy brings over two wine glasses and pours water from the only thing that is in my fridge, a water bottle, remarking “it’s either I pour this or we spray perfume on one another as that’s the only other thing in your fridge.”
“It’s called a starvation diet, how do you think I stay so thin?”
“Certainly explains your small breasts then”
“Ya well the breasts are a speed bump on the way to better destinations.” I said boldly and truthfully as every guy’s fascination with my ass makes my boobs much like a sideshow attraction.
“Really” he said, scooping up my right foot which lay extended out on the sofa, and he began kissing at my toes, “like your pretty feet perhaps?”
Freeze. Think about that for a moment, as I surely did. Do you know how many times I’ve been in that same position on my couch with one of my submissive guys following my instruction to worship my toes? Now this Zeus like god of a man has, on his own volition, assumed the same position. Darth Vader’s line “all too easy” ran across my mind when Luke had fallen into the Carbonite Freezing Chamber.
Just like Luke was quick to escape and make a counter attack, Zeus, with one flick of his hands quite unexpectedly whipped my ankles up over his left shoulder and began kissing down the underside of my leg working his way to the inside as he did so causing something to happen that hasn’t happened since I was 11 years old … my pussy began twitching by herself with uncontrollable convulsions.
Mistress Wael has tried to teach me some of her Jiu Jitsu to make the wrestling sessions go easier and though it mostly goes in one ear and out the other as I use my yoga flexibility to counter guys in our play fights , I did at that moment remember the basic position of putting somebody in the guard, which is to wrap my legs around the person’s waist and lock my feet behind his back. I did so, and immediately cursed Wael in my thoughts for teaching me that as now I could feel his wood not only pressing up against the space between my vagina and my ass but it throbbed as it did so causing not just one trickle, but many , of my pussy juice to escape my panties and fall down the inside of my leg.
This was going from bad to worse and I considered just giving in and be taken right there on the couch.
“Let’s make a toast” said I , reaching over nonchalantly to grab my wine glass of water.
Just as coolly he hoisted his glass in the air and asked “what shall we drink to , we can choose as many as we like since we’ll never get drunk on this shit”
“I’ll drink to Obama’s dick, you drink to Hillary’s pussy, deal?”
“Deal” he agreed and we clinked glasses. A childish move on my part, but I was smug with it, until the palm of his hand pushed down right where my clitoris is on my skirt and he said “but I’d rather drink to yours.”
Again, what the fuck with the twitching pussy? She was shaking like a jackhammer under his hand, so much so that he instantly noticed it and his gaze went from my eye to his hand with a smile.
“Whoa, what have we here?” he remarked.
“Careful” I whipped out an instant reply, “I’ll have to lock you in chastity if you keep looking at her like that.”
“If you can find a chastity big enough, go ahead, you can lock me all you want.”
Oh my goodness. My eyes glanced over at the locked second bedroom down my hallway, behind which is a museum of bdsm toys as big as the Louvre, including 3 of said chastity devices. But my mind was considering whether indeed they were big enough, or more precisely, just how much bigger must they be? Wow, I’ve met my match in wits that’s for certain.
This guy is smooth as silk , with his lines , mannerisms , everything running like a will oiled machine, I wondered just how many girls has he conquered to achieve such smoothness? There was a curiousness building inside me to analyze his actions, like for instance his next one which was not just to bend his head down to kiss me atop my jeans at my crotch , but rather to lift me by my ass up to his mouth. It was as if to give me a hint of how powerful the sex would be in the bedroom, and I let him do it, but with a smirk.
He caught the reaction right way. “Shall I go back to your toes? he questioned.
“I think you better.”
“Then I’ll do it in the bedroom, i need the space to kiss them properly.” Without asking he got up and pulled me with a soft tug on my hand that suggested I follow and when I got up indeed he scooped me up with one arm and carried me to the bedroom tickling my feet along the way with a smile.
Now every submissive guy I’ve had in my bedroom have to a man all instinctively assumed the same posture at the end of my bed, knees on the wooden floor and my toes in their mouth. Not a single guy has dared to climb up on the bed with me and assume some other position from which to worship , and rightfully so. They’d be met with a slap or a loving kick to their balls if they did try, but it’s interesting that none have.
This guy not only climbs on the bed with me but he assumes the bottom position while lifting me on top of his chest. Then with full audacity, he pushes me backwards so that my head falls onto his crotch area and he scoops up both my feet to play with his mouth. Now that’s ballsy. The only other move I’ve come across that was equally as brave was when one of my lovers gave me an amazing massage with my head propped up on his lap as he oiled my breasts, tummy and the waxed part of my vagina where my pubic hair would be. At the most intense moment of that hour long massage he had worked his hands up from my breasts to my neck and as he pushed hard into the crease of my neck it caused my chin to rise in order to further expose my neck … a natural reaction. That arching of my neck brought my mouth right to the tip of his erect penis which he had taken out of his pants slyly, and it was so nicely done that I had smiled up at him with his dick resting on my mouth and said “well played” .. before flicking it aside.
Now similarly, my head was resting on his erect member and i moved my head side to side on it as he lapped at my toes. “You’re failing girl, you’re failing” I shouted at myself. Mistresses do not get seduced, ever … this I told myself. And truly, it was at that moment that I realized i had two people inside of me that were actually fighting with one another. One, the mistress side of me had been conditioned to control every situation with a man, while the other side, the girl inside of me, just wanted to be taken by this guy and enjoy the moment.
I wanted to hop out of the bed and say ‘enough’. Take him by the hand and lead him to the second bedroom where indeed I would strap this boy to the wall by hands and feet both , clamp my spiked chastity on his dick – whatever size it happened to be , and teach him some humility in the presence of his goddess. I’d go get his glass from the living room table and from beneath my vagina, show him that water was not the only thing in the condo that I could serve him to drink.
From there I’d caress the underside of his balls lovingly, laughing as his stiffening cock caused the spikes to press further into the sensitive head of his dick, waiting for him to beg for a little bit of mercy.
I could to. I so could seduce this beau with the longest, sexiest tease of his life. Milking the cum millimeter by millimeter from his balls to the point of no return in his shaft, and then letting it retreat so that once again the agony of pleasure could be repeated until his knees shook.
I’ve had men shaking, convulsing, in their straps as my lips quiver just above theirs, unlocking by feel their cock from my chastity and replacing it in my warm hand. Warning them as I pull lightly just under the head that if they cum without my permission the consequence would be to never be able to session with me again … and then asking them if that’s what they wanted.
This I could do to him also. And how sweet would it be to have this Adonis of a man whimpering at every touch of my finger as they danced around the sensitive areas of his groin, ever so careful to give him no climax , just seemingly endless torture.
He had no idea who I was , what I could do to him , if I could just get up and take him by the hand with the same loving tug as he had just done to me , to lead him to my room where the other side of me is so comfortable , she would just take over and seduce him wickedly. Just … his cock on the back of my head felt so nice and the way he was sucking specifically on my toe … my biggest one … was , well fuck , he was foreshadowing how he would suck my pussy and given his technique on my toe, I knew if he did that between my legs I’d convulse all over him. So very very few men actually know how to suck.
They all call it “licking pussy” … “i can’t wait to lick your pussy” , “I want to lick you”. A misnomer if there ever was one. Delightfully, this guy knew it was all about sucking, and the various nuances that can be done within the sucking motion. The pressure changes, the rhythm changes, the occasional lick along the edges of my lips, all of this he was doing to my toe and it was driving me wild.
Somewhere inside me I said fuck it. Fuck being a mistress. Fuck femdom. Fuck domination. I want his cock inside me.
But under my terms and conditions.
What? What the fuck?
Even sex has to be a negotiation between the two of us inside me? Yes apparently it most certainly does. “He’s not going to fuck you , rather, you are going to fuck him , and only when you’re ready, and above that , only when he’s whimpering like a baby begging for it.”
To which my other half replies “I want to be on the bottom of my super soft bed, smothered by him, his lips and tongue on my mouth and feel him slowly enter me and just let the rhythm take over and enjoy being fucked by one of the hottest men in the world, for once.”
“Whore, slut” she replies, “this guy just wants another notch in his belt, to add you to the many he’s laid around the world, and you’re just going to let him do that? This guy needs to be strapped to a wall, teased until his dick is perpendicular to the floor, and have him watch as you bend over and ease only the first inch of his piece barely into your opening and let him shoot his load just with the pleasure of being banged like that. That’s how it’s done.”
“No, fuck no, I want to feel him inside me three days after he’s flown back to Germany. I want to be banged so hard tonight my stomach hurts for a month thinking about it.”
Endless bickering. The dichotomy of living with my two selves was very much revealing at such an inopportune moment just how complex the struggle of who I really am is.
“Are you ok?”
I don’t know how long I had been having this internal dialogue but when his question shook myself out of whatever trance I had been in, I found I had slid off him and was laying on the bed like a snow angel with my arms outstretched … probably talking out loud with myself.
“I’m complicated.”
“I see that. How so?”
“I’m batman.” … I didn’t actually say that , but sure as hell felt like saying it as felt appropriate.
He pulled me to his chest and brushed my hair in such a pleasant way that I smiled. It was gentle and sweet and I felt him kissing the top of my head as he did so. I wrapped my leg around his and took a deep breath thinking about how nice it would be to fall asleep in somebody’s arms who loved me every night in this position. It must have been a deep deep thought for it was the last one I had of that evening and when I once again opened my eyes I was aware of the heat of the room , the kind that comes about in the afternoon and the brightness of the sun blazing its way through the curtains made me realize that I had fallen asleep right at that moment he was playing with my hair.
I wiggled out from his clutch to the end of the bed and tiptoed to where the remote control for the air conditioner was. Ever so slowly I closed the drapes to block the sun but they don’t quite close all the way, often leaving a one inch gap even when fully closed. That left a crack for the diffused sunlight to shine through and it landed right across this guys beautiful body , illuminating it in such a magnificent way i had to grab my phone and snatch a photo of such perfection.
In the guest bathroom I took a shower and dressed in my lingerie type pajamas that I have. I crept back into bed under the star wars blanket that I now wondered if he had noticed before he slept. I hesitated at doing so , but dearly wanted to snuggle back into his chest again , just so I could close my eyes and feel what love must feel like , even if only for another hour. This time I drifted off to sleep with not so kind memories of ex boyfriends and all the time I was adrift in my sleep I was battling to jump from one sad memory only to land smack in the middle of another one.
It was one of those sleeps where you want to wake up but for whatever reason you’re trapped inside your dream, awful as it might be, not being allowed to wake up until the dreams have proved their point, much like the dreams of Ebeneezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol.
Then, toast. My dream was no longer in afflux as it tried to make sense of toast in how it related to me wandering in thick blinding mist … a metaphor for my relationship with my last boyfriend from Boston.
The image of toast had all but shattered the dream as my mind was like T-1000 Terminator robot struggling to make a form as it melted in molten steel.
Then I heard my name spoken, and when I opened my eyes I was wrapped in my bed sheets like a mummy and there was this plate of toast and peanut butter being presented to me with a wine glass of water on a tray – with a candy and a wrapped and tied letter to boot.
“For me?” I smiled and spoke at the same time.
“Yes for you, I don’t just make toast for anybody.”
He cuddled in behind me as I nibbled on the bread, not wanting to mix my morning breath with the smell of peanut butter which most people are sensitive to.
“You’re perfect, and I don’t know why.” he whispered behind my ear.
I put the tray down and sunk backwards into his arms to speak softly up at him, “why do you think?”
“Not sure, I don’t know why but at some point last night while you fell asleep on me I held you and told you I love you.”
There it was , my superhero power, working even while I sleep. But you know, just like the power of the guy who can run blindlingly fast but without the ability to stop , my power is also flawed in some way. The power to make men say “I love you” come with the flaw of nobody ever staying long enough to say the words twice.
One day I’ll be able to throw away the key to that locked bedroom , not yet though , not yet.
kh xx
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If you don’t mind , I’m gonna talk about things that are in my thoughts even though they may be the furthest thing from anything to do with femdom. I get a lot of “your blog’s been quiet” messages and it’s because , well , since my life got invaded last August , it was like a slap in the face about what I should share publicly (fuck i misspell that word every single time) and I decided to keep the blog entries bdsm session related for the most part.
But, things are eating at me.
Again, sorry to be esoteric , but those in my closed group of friends that I’ve done sessions with will recall the photos I sent you last month when I attended the double weddings of my friends I’ve known since high school back in the village. Remember? Alright, go dig that photo up, i’ll get back to it shortly.
So, I’m just back from Bali where I left at 4am to climb Mount Batur and see the sunrise from above the clouds at the edge of the volcano’s caldera. As you can see from the photo, it was one of those moments one never forgets , the majestic view was awe inspiring , and as I posted on my Twitter , dampened only by having to share the experience with the 200 or so other people who made the climb with me. When I saw the movie Everest , it never quite hit me how annoying it would be to have to share such an epic climbing experience with every Tom Dick and Harry who decided to climb alongside that day as well. A moment like that, one craves to share it in solitude I think , something which is probably not possible in the Instagram era.
As this furry friend stops just long enough to allow me to snap a photo of him on top of the world I thought about just how lucky I have been to be able to visit 10 countries so far and I’m only in my 20’s still. I’d estimate that a scant .01% of any girl born and raised in a Thai slum village ever gets to Bangkok, making the idea of travelling outside a far fetched dream, yet there I was taking in a spectacular view and thinking how lucky I’ve been.
Then it hit me like a Muay Thai liver shot (which i was on the receiving end of in my last training session) just how tragic the lives of my two best friends from high school have turned in the days since their weddings last month.
One of them … the one on the right in the photo I told you to dig up … she never considered that three weeks after her missed period she might be pregnant , went to an amusement park in Bangkok and went for repeated rides on the roller coaster there. Coming home, she began to bleed profusely , and only found out at the hospital later that night that she had suffered a miscarriage.
Now on my Line App , we have a group of 5 high school friends who still talk to one another , a group that I normally have a hard time following due to the village type conversations that go on daily there , stuff like “what did you eat” , “who is so-and-so dating” , what happened on the soap operas today , yada yada yada. When my friend posted a photo of her in the hospital recovering in sadness from her miscarriage , the second girlfriend … the one on the left in the photo … texted to the group … “you’re here too?”
Translating loosely from Thai to English the conversation continued as such …
“Yes”
“Visiting who?”
“No, I’m checked in”
“Why what happened to you, why didn’t you tell us?”
“I’ve been diagnosed with a cancer called Leukemia”
And it hit me that in all likelihood she’ll never get a chance to to ascend a volcano and experience the type of view that was before me, and she the same age as me. If you recall from one of my first entries, I had a co-worker who worked right beside me get stricken by cancer and gave up her life some 30 days later. While that was shocking to me , it didn’t hurt so deep as this one hurts and suddenly all my personal troubles seem so tiny by comparison.
So take a look at that photo if I’ve shared it with you , and realize that for whatever reason , out of the three , I’m the only one who has been spared a tragedy so far. Gosh.
kh xx
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p.s: i’m working on setting a newsletter up , one which people who have sessioned with me can subscribe to. I’ll be sharing personal photos, videos, stories from that medium , and i’ll be test running it next week sometime ok. 🙂
And so it is Just like you said it would be Life goes easy on me Most of the time And so it is The shorter story No love, no glory No hero in her sky
I’m not just going to recommend a movie for you to see, I’m going to implore you to view it for me. Not because it’s great, which it is. Certainly not because it’s complex, though indeed it’s complexity is saturated. Nor does my recommendation come from it’s message, of which there are many by my estimation.
No, for the reason that I need you to see the movie Closer is that if you really ever wanted to understand who I truly am , the girl behind the Mistress’s mask if you will , then you definitely need to explore Natalie Portman’s character Alice for the absolute microcosm of my life that she represents.
I’ve never cried watching a movie, ever, but this one brought me to tears simply from the happenstance that Alice is a wholly accurate representation of myself , profession aside. Though be it through her profession as a stripper, or mine as your Mistress, both the end of the movie or a session with me forces you to ask if everything she or I did was a form of stripping, in which much is revealed, but little is surrendered? “Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off,” she tells Dr. Larry, “but it’s more fun if you do.”
The lie , in this case her never revealing her true name to the man she loves at any time in their relationship , acts like a shield , she needs it to protect herself from a man she never fully trusts , yet wants to with all sincerity. Much the same way you guys address me as “Jaa” , something that gnaws at me every time I answer an email , and you’ll notice that once we’ve established a sense of trust in our relationship I eventually reveal to you my true name. Sorry to be a bit esoteric here , but those in my tight group of submissive’s who have become somewhat of a group of friends know the reason of why I hide behind a moniker other than my own , and for nearly a year now I’ve been trying to find a way to once again share to both strangers and friends alike a sense of who I am , without revealing so much that it endangers my safety.
Alice arrives in England running away from a past relationship much the same way I ran away to a foreign country to study English abroad having immediately just before turned down a marriage proposal from my Thai sweetheart of 8 long wonderful years. I broke up with him on his knees begging me not to leave him and though I didn’t say the exact words Alice said in the movie , “I don’t love you anymore, goodbye” the feeling inside me was equally as cold and final. Indeed, every man since that I’ve walked away from has been just as cold and sudden.
There is no reason for a heart to linger once you’ve been lied to. I’ve read countless posts about Alice’s personality with people misunderstanding the basic reason why she just walks away from men and disappears without contact. One has to be unplugged from the Matrix to understand her reasoning , and has to have somewhat of a nihilistic approach to people and their actions , but to explain it as simply as I can – on the whole ; animals are better than people.
One line in particular sums up my thoughts on that statement perfectly , it’s in this nifty bit of dialogue which correctly hits a nerve of truth :
Dan: When I get back, please tell me the truth.
Alice: Why?
Dan: Because I’m addicted to it. Because without it, we’re animals. Trust me.
I’ve come to love animals over men , there’s a purity in their actions that I love. A few of you who have found my Facebook have had a laugh over my involvement with saving animals , going so far as to donate money monthly to save as many as I can ; the latest being a pair of elephants. Why do I give my heart to animals over men? Well quite simply, I’ve been lied to by every man I’ve come to have a relationship with , save one – my first … and I , like Alice I think , am just looking for something pure to invest my heart into.
I feel for her. This line especially :
Alice: No one will ever love you as much as I do. Why isn’t love enough?
Like me, she’s faithful to a fault. If you’ve seen the movie, did you notice that Alice was the only one of the four who didn’t cheat while still in a relationship? Yes she had sex, but it was long after she had broken up with Dan. Similarly, I can truthfully say that I have never had sex outside of my relationships, I’m just as faithful to a fault as she is. The movie goes out of its way to make a poignant point that such faithfulness is pointless as there is the sense that their trusts and betrayals are not fundamentally important to them; “You’ve ruined my life,” one says, and then is told, “You’ll get over it.”
I absolutely love that the two who fucked around on each other the most ended up – unwillingly – with each other in the end ; a stunning parallel to one of my ex bf’s who is marrying the Thai girl he’s cheated on endlessly and she’s perfectly fine with forgiving him every time : may they live happily ever after roflmfao . Ahh , what Thai girls will put up with to marry a foreigner , if I wasn’t so nihilistic I’d say it’s pitiful. How come I’m not cut from the same cloth I wonder? A little known secret about me … I was born with a set of balls , it’s just disguised as my clitoris.
In the end, Alice leaves Dan , choosing to be alone over being let down again as men are so wont to do and the final scene of her turning heads walking among a sea of sad strangers epitomizes my life here in Bangkok.
Strong, but sad and alone – no hero in her sky.
“jaa” xx
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It’s hard to imagine a worse name to give a son than Ass but if there was , it’d be Craig – if one is intending to live here. That’s because other than myself and a handful of others , Craig gets pronounced as Quack.
So then fast forward 24 hours as the next day we had a double mistress session with a guy in my condo who wanted to be double teased with heavy facesitting. There’s two types of facesitting in case you didn’t know. There’s the guys who love to worship a perfect ass and love to see it dangling ever so close above their face before maybe or maybe not getting to worship it later that evening with their mouth. Then there’s the guys who love being smothered with an ass to the point where they struggle to breathe and almost end up passing out. It’s a tremendous turn-on for them … but if for that group of people I only hovered above them , they wouldn’t enjoy it at all.
