Femdom Blog

Hey, it’s Head Mistress Wael, and now that I’m back doing sessions again that’s how you will address me, or as Madame.  I’m not a Goddess, never have been so don’t address me as such.

Okay, now that I’ve stuffed all those keywords into the first sentence let me talk like myself from here on in.

*Exhales deeply.  It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

 

Look, this is going to be quite a long blog post so let me summarize all these points from my notes I have in front of me – in case you just want the tl:dr of the things I’m about to spew into my phone and have it pop out as a blog post the length of War & Peace, with the help of some AI wizardry …

 

In Summary:

— I’m back after being away for just over a year, that’s how long it’s taken for me to both recover and feel ready to do sessions as a Head Mistress.

— Living in Chiang Rai creates logistical challenges for conducting sessions in Bangkok. Therefore, I prefer to hold 80% of my sessions here and only 20% in Bangkok.

— When I do fly down to Bangkok, I’ll be staying a maximum of two days, and only one flight per week at the most so it is going to be tricky arranging sessions, but it is doable.

— In Bangkok I’ll strictly be doing sessions from my hotel room.  In Chiang Rai I’ve rented a nice, secluded house to do sessions out of.

— Obviously, the prices are tailored towards doing the 1-hour Femdom sessions that I prefer, but there is a method to my madness so read the whole blog story to discover my reasoning, or just listen to what the Joker has to say:

 

 

— I AM … very good at what I do, I’d even go so far as to say that I’m the best at what I do and always have been.  <– Yes, that’s me, not just throwing shade but zinging it!

—  I’d prefer to start accepting sessions in December, but would it be that there are long time slaves of mine out there who want a session right away I’ll say yes.

— But for slaves just getting to know me, I’d say wait until December because I need these next 6 weeks to get back to the 56kg version of me that looks kind of hot.

— Well, as hot as I’m going to look for a 45 year old Mistress.  But remember: “it’s not the years, it’s the mileage.”  (ie: you’re not paying for the beauty, you’re paying for the experience I bring to the table)

 

 

Ok, enough summarizing, I have stuff to say!  Read on if you dare 🙂

 

One year ago today I was locked inside a padded room with 7 other crazies in the ward of the hospital that houses the mentally unstable… and I’m still not sure if they let the right one out!

I’ve spent the past 365 days trying to figure out who I am, what is actually wrong with me — all while trying to uncover a conspiracy theory targeted at me …. that IF I had verbally told my doctor about would have gotten me locked up for good.

I moved my daily blog from jaa4u.com to FanVue.com/wael so that I could blog about my life daily without cluttering up this website with the drama that came with the past year.

The end result of it all being … “Yup, I crashed last year, big time.”

But no – I’m not Schizophrenic, nor am I Bi-Polar, which is the doctor’s diagnosis of me <– wait, I’ll get to that in a moment.

Rather, I suffer from an anxiety disorder, one that makes my brain not just unable to calm down in stressful situations but elevates the panic so that it flies out of control.

I take medication in the form of a very uncomfortable jab in my ass cheek once per month on the 24th, and it’s not a voluntary thing.

Heh, you know what?  I’ve been writing on censored websites for so long (fanvue, loyalfans, onlyfans, scatbook) that it is going to take some time to teach my brain to speak naturally about things that are pissing me off without censoring myself.

Ok let’s try that again.

If I don’t go on the 24th of every month to get my ass jabbed with the fucking shit they pump me with, they hold the threat of locking me up over my head so it’s a thing I’m forced to do.  It’s called Lorazepam and it’s a motherfucker of a drug.  It knocks me out for 3 straight days so from the 24th to the 26th I’m not me … I’m sleeping beauty.

Those of you who have known me for quite some time know that I never swear.  So that I’m calling it a motherfucker out loud … and I’m saying the word in English as I speak into my phone here and not in Thai tells you how I truly feel about them making me take this monthly shot.

And for what?  I don’t hear voices – so don’t go out and start playing Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice because you want to know what it’s like to be me … couldn’t be further from the truth.   I don’t see people who aren’t there either like in the movie A Beautiful Mind.

What I do have is an over-active imagination.

How so?

Since I love movie scenes so much – it’s a tiny bit like this scene from A Beautiful Mind where he picks out patterns from random numbers:

 

 

Only, he’s a genius and I’m a poet, so – and don’t laugh – but when I go sit down on the toilet in my bathroom and I look at the floor tiles as I’m trying to squeeze out a log … I see pictures in the art tiles, a different picture every time.

midnight duckJust an hour ago I saw a Panda, kind of like the one in Kung-Fu Panda only he was more of a cross between Kung Fu Panda – Indiana Jones and a Teenage Mutant Ninja turtle, and he was on a a steam train, behind the chimney of one peaking out from beside the spout.  Then that kind of vanished and the patterns on the tiles showed me a volcano with the face of a sinister duck in the smoke plume of said volcano … holding a machete.  So you know what I do when I see something like that?  I go to my Ideogram text to image preferred platform and I try to make an image of what I just saw in the floor tiles.

Looks something like the image you see here, bizarre huh?

Only, I have thousands of these on my old Ideogram account and I was getting followed by so many people – almost 100,000 –  that I started over again as I seek anonymity not popularity.   All these images, liked by so many, are coming from me literally trying to take a shit and staring at the tiles on the floor.

monstrosityHere’s a popular monstrosity that just appeared to me during one very long laborious shit.  The fire slit in it’s stomach was actually a butterfly that was sitting on my earth toned floor a foot in front of my naked toes and then suddenly around it the tiles started revealling this monstrous faceless form surrounded by billowing smoke.

You know, this is the stuff that got me in so much trouble in my school days.  I’d sit there and daydream by looking out the window at the clouds and then would write poems about the shapes the clouds were revealing to me.  I had this old, battered pale green binder, the kind with the three-fold down wing like clips that held sheets of paper in place, the front of which had all my school notes from class but when flipped over and read from the back had all these poems I had written as the hours in class flew by me.

Then a teacher got hold of it and burned it in front of the class saying “this is what happens to daydreamers” and that was the end of that.

My right ear lobe is still tender to this day from all the times teachers dragged me out of my seat and out of the classroom by said ear for not paying attention.

There’s a show streaming on Amazon Prime right now called Night Sky – sadly it got cancelled after only one season, but what a majestic show that was.  I didn’t have to secret place in my backyard to unlock such a wonderful portal, I was constantly going places in my mind; but the concept of the show – mirrored the way my mind used to wander into a fantasy land.  Gosh, I highly recommend it if you haven’t seen it.  I doubt anyone’s seen it, it has but 600 reviews on IMDB.

Anyways, I’m just telling you all this because – I’m admitting to you that I have a highly active imagination.

While that does me a great disservice – say in a crowded subway car, especially if my mind paints some guy as being none-too-friendly, it also empowers me when I read emails from soon-to-be slaves asking for a session as they spill out their deepest, darkest fantasies to me on paper.  Err well, a computer screen substituting for paper, but you get my meaning right?

So, instead of seeing patterns of numbers like in the video I linked above, I read a thoughtfully written email and I start to see other kinds of patterns … patterns of possibility.  No, check that.  I see patterns of great possibility.

The tiles on my bathroom floor?  I have to admit that I have sat on the porcelain throne until my legs started to go numb – staring into those patterns and playing out whole sessions in my mind just from reading one email that may have inspired me and triggered my imagination.  How do you think The Ladyboy Gauntlet came to be?  That was me taking a relatively tame email … but one where I swore I could read greater intent in his words … then sitting  on the toilet and basically dreaming out a movie where a slave signs up for more than he bargained for … and these ladyboys line up on either side of him for miles and miles, each waiting for her turn to pound a hole in sync with the ladyboy pounding away at the opposite hole.

His eyes are all teared up … the makeup that I adorned his face with is running rivers of black down his cheeks as his thoughts beg for mercy but he can’t speak or cry out with both his orifices being drilled into oblivion without mercy.  Then a scene from The Lich King – a World of Warcraft game pops into my head, specifically the time where he said “you’ll learn of that first hand, when my work is complete you will beg for mercy … and I WILL DENY YOU.”

 

 

“Your anguished cries will be testament to my unbridled power.  I’ll keep you alive (sic) to witness the end my slave.  I would not want my greatest servant to miss seeing this wretched world remade, in – my – image.”

That’s …. how I dream of these sessions playing out.

Like, my mind at this moment is thinking of those words “this wretched world” … and I instantly conjure up that wonderful series Night Sky being cancelled so that the world can be force fed The Bachelor for its umpteenth season of disgustingness.  To me, that’s wretchedness.  As is my own sister telling my doctor that I’m crazy over and over and building a case history on me … just to secretly transfer the land ownership to my name so the lien on it by the bank can be forgiven because I’m not mentally stable enough to pay back a loan.  That’s wretchedness too.

That first slave who experienced The Ladyboy Gauntlet, at the start he’d yell out “wait, no wait, wait, please wait” when the first two ladyboy’s were finished filling him and the next two were stepping into place.  I thrashed his ass so hard and so many times in those precious few seconds that I had to exercise my will on the session and I whispered out loud “are you sure you want to wait, I DO enjoy spanking SO much.”

So all the while, as I’m lashing his ass, I’m hearing The Lich King in my head, saying those words “your anguished cries….” and in session it’s me that’s living out the fantasy, not him.  See what I mean?

I’ve devoted two hugely long chapters to how this opening of my fantasy – like an opening of Pandora’s Box – was too much for my brain to handle as it just kept manifesting itself in ever increasingly nearly demented sessions of seeing what a human being can tolerate.

At one point last year, I had stopped being a Mistress and was more so a purveyor of fantasies … fantasies of the unspeakable kind.

How so?

Again, this small portion of this blog story is just to show you an encapsulation of what happened to make my mind spin out of control and crash so hard last year.  You’ll have to read my book – which I swear is like every horror movie you’ve ever seen or read come true … like, there were things happening that would be jaw dropping to you but to me were just becoming ho-hum everyday events.  Like, as I write my book – it is teaching me that this job as a dominatrix has no boundaries, no limits – if I so chose to entertain every fantasy presented before me.  None whatsoever.

Those of you who have closely followed my Scatbook blog – know exactly what ‘none whatsoever’ means in respect to July’s slave who attempted the 30 day human toilet slavery fantasy and wanted in no uncertain terms to be treated as an object.  Like, you can’t say those words to me like you can say them to someone else – to anyone else.

Have you ever seen the movie Hellraiser?

The opening of the movie starts as follows:

 

 

“Take it.  It’s yours.  It always was.” referring to the box, Pandora’s box if you will.

Frank Cotton is you – the slave, the submissive, the man longing for a different meaning to his life.  Only you’ve gone from Mistress to Mistress, or should I say … you’ve gone from cash-grabbing girl to cash-grabbing girl , one after the other, looking for an experience outside of human reality.  You’ve come close.  Maybe you’ve visited The Warsaw Dungeon or The English Mansion, and you wet your lips with a taste of what might be possible.  But that was all just props and cages, wasn’t it?  You weren’t truly in any danger, you know that.

80sNot that it’s danger you’re looking for.  Danger just comes with the territory when looking for something that’s so hard to find in this GenZ wishy-washy world.

What you’re looking for is something from a lost generation, like the encapsulation of the reckless freedom you once experienced in the 80’s that you see in the picture I’ve found for you.

Only, how do you find that in this world of materialism, in this wretched world of meaninglessness?

Well, you’d have to find someone who doesn’t really care about money any longer.  Not someone rich, for that kind of person has made money a priority all along, unless they happened into their fortune, maybe by way of a lottery.

You’d also have to find someone with an over-active imagination, someone who once too (in the 90’s) used to climb to the top of trees so high they almost touched the clouds with 0 fear of the consequences of her actions.

So, do you start to see how this brain of mine, one that was totally useless in school and was punished endlessly for not being able to focus … was kind of made for this job?

When I first found The Machine – the ladyboy who’s real name is Patty but who puts as much effort into coming across as a girl as a sailor might put into looking dapper before he stepped into a pub … when I found her in all her ugliness and marvelled at the sheer size of her gifted cock … do you know what my first words to her were in that moment?

They weren’t in Thai, they were in English …as the words spoken by Pinhead from that same Hellraiser movie and I said “I have SUCH SIGHTS TO SHOW YOU.”

Because in my mind, right there while staring at her ungodly thick and long cock, I was thinking of kneeling down beside a bed one day, looking point blank into the eyes of a fearful slave … one who’s head was laying over the edge of a bed, his arms and legs firmly secured by me so as to not be able to move …. and seeing this massive cock from The Machine begin to lower itself into the depths of his throat and saying those exact same words “I have such sights to show you.”

So am I Schizophrenic?  No.

Anxiety issues? Yes.

Do I take medication for it?  Yes.  Forcefully.

But does the way my mind think lend itself greatly to providing the most unimaginable of sessions?  Yes, capital Y.

Again though, this doesn’t go into how I went from being the sweet and innocent Mistress understudy that I was … to this purveyor of fantasies, basically becoming the Hell Priest played by actress Jamie Clayton in the 2022 Hellraiser reboot – only, she was acting, I wasn’t.

I happened to meet a very well-to-do client one day early in 2022 who didn’t want me to dominate him, but rather, he wanted me to unlock fantasies for him – at any expense.  That’s what I go into great detail in my those two chapters of my book, how … once I was unbound from money being a barrier, at a time where working girls and ladyboys would do anything for money due to the length of those covid lockdowns, it was like a portal opening up in my mind of what was possible.

I basically had a job of finding certain people, certain establishments and by waving as much money was needed in front of their faces – was able to arrange every fantasy he asked for.

Then he referred me to a couple of his business associates and slowly but surely, word got around in certain well-to-do circles that if you had a particular fantasy that you wanted arranged for you to play out … I was the girl to seek out.

Ya, and thus, while Mistress Jaa was doing her 1 and 2 hour T&D sessions for 2022 and 2023, I kind of stopped doing them all together by mid 2023 and instead was doing things like renting entire ladyboy clubs and offering xxxx amount of dollars to the one ladyboy who could make my slave utter his safe word and quit.  That’s how I came to know The Machine so to speak.  She was the first person able to do what was needed to make my slave quit.  What happened that night kind of needs to be in a book and not out for everyone to see and read so wait for it if you want to know.

But ya, it got to the point where I was losing myself.  The same thing that had happened to the first two Mistress Jaa’s was now happening to me, my true self was being lost, piece by piece, inch by inch.  I don’t think it’s possible to do the kinds of things I was arranging and not have it affect you in some way or other.  Ask me about the “ass-to-ass” reenactment from the movie  Requiem for a Dream (2000) one day.  Yuck.  It changed me.

Then suddenly, almost overnight, it got to the point where I couldn’t do it any longer.  That whole final 9 minutes sequence in the Requiem for a Dream movie with the rapid cutting from scene to scene, degenerating into something more and more awful every few seconds … that was basically my life for all of last September.

It should have ended up with me on the floor of the toilet stall in the airport but the flimsy rope I was using snapped.

Rather, it ended up with me in a padded room with those other crazy people and me sitting there wondering how things had gotten so bad.

I’ve had a year to contemplate the road that I chose which ended with me in that awful place.  In fact, to go back to Requiem for a Dream, there was a young girl I was befriending and comforting … who was being given the same brain electric shock therapy against her will … just like the old lady in the final Requiem sequence ….

 

 

… and to this day I think “holy shit, I was ‘this close’ to being that girl and having my brain fried in that same hospital.

Anyways, point is, I went very far down Alice’s rabbit hole and I think, for a Head Mistress, a true one at least, it’s an experience one has to have gone through to truly understand what it means to be a Head Mistress.

What do I mean?

Like, this scene to you is just a popcorn munching moment in a great scene from a Star Wars movie and nothing more, right?

 

 

What if you had unlimited power?  What would you do?  How far would you go with it? How much would you let it consume you?

Well on the one hand you could become Anthony Fremont

On the other hand, like me, you’d become The Woman Who Could Work Miracles

At the end of that movie, The Man Who Could Work Miracles, his final wish was to – at the word “go”, be unable to wish for any more miracles.  And so it is with me as I attempt to adorn my Mistress persona once again.

I don’t want to do those outlandish sessions again.

It leads to insanity.

 

The 80/20 Rule

 

If you rewrote the dialogue in this, my favorite geography scene ever from the movie Sleepless in Seattle to read as such:

“Where’s ‘The Middle of Nowhere?”

“Right”

“Now where’s Bangkok?”

“Ahhhh – here, there’s like 1, 2, 3, 4, like 500 million trees between here and there, that’s a sign.”

 

… Then you’d have an idea of how I feel about flying back and forth from Chiang Rai to Bangkok every week.  About as fun as cleaning all the bathrooms in Grand Central Station with my tongue (Weird Al Yankovic reference) in my opinion.

So, there has to be a rule – if I’m going to come back and do sessions as your Head Mistress- and no not a rule of thumb but a real shiny golden rule.  Like not saying Beetlejuice 3 times in a row is a rule … a serious one like that.

It’s called the 80/20 rule –  I do 80% of my sessions here in Chaing Rai and only 20% down in the lava pit of Bangkok.

Seriously, like you know how in movie’s ex-convicts always say at one point “I ain’t going back to prison” , uh, the movie Heat comes to mind:

 

That’s how I feel about Bangkok.  I ain’t going back.  I’ll visit, but I’m not staying.

I have my nice big garden here that sits right beside the house I designed and built from scratch, and my dog and my chickens and the canopied lane I live on with no neighbours, oh and the secret forest path that leads to the mountain behind the lane.  This is paradise, or one version of it at least.

You know, when I stayed at iPremium in Bangkok I had this amazing view when I first moved in.  I could see all the way to the condo 500 meters away – sarcastic joke.

No seriously, it was an ‘ok’ view, unobstructed from the 7th floor balcony and I could see all the way to the tiny hole in the ground that I used to live in on soi 7 at On Nut.

Then they built a condo 30 meters from my window and I had to eventually go out and buy a huge white sheet so that I wouldn’t have an audience every time I turned on the studio lights just before filming a poop eating clip.

True, I might live literally in the middle of nowhere, but it’s growing on me.  When I left here I was just out of College, a 24 year old naive kid who didn’t appreciate the anonymity one gets from living with no neighbours in sight.

Now I do.

So at most, even if there happens to be demand for me to be a Mistress in Bangkok every single day as there has been for the past 10 years, I’m only going to fly back at most once per week and for no more than 2 days.

Meaning, come the evening of that 2nd day – I’m on the plane 60 minutes after my last session ends.

That way I keep my sanity, my garden grows bountifully under my care every day and I actively seek those session requests where the submissive slave is willing to come up here to Chiang Rai.

 

Mi Casa es Su Casa or My Hotel Room is Your Hotel Room

All sessions in Bangkok will be held at whatever hotel I’m staying at.

All sessions in Chiang Rai will be held at the house I’m renting for us which will give us absolute privacy.

To get around the privacy issue in Bangkok … re: the snoopy security guards at every single condo who want to know who you’re coming to see and why and snap photos of you … I’m staying at a place that has a 2nd unattended building, like an extension of the main hotel.

One of the reasons I love living up here comes down to two words: “fuck security.”

Fuck security cameras.  Fuck facial recognition cameras.  Fuck the soon to be everywhere AI robot police dogs – I’m talking 2028 and beyond.

Fuck the security guard at my condo who’d take photos of me jogging around the condo every night, even though I did it regularly at 3am every evening.

Anxiety, right?  Yes, I’m slowly becoming one of those cat ladies who’s going to live as a hermit with her 24 cats as my only friends.  But not yet.

For now, I just want to have any slaves visiting me be able to do so with total anonymity, and for me to have that same anonymity as well.

Yet another reason why I’m looking to do 80% of the sessions up here in the house I’ll be renting, but I’ve been to practically every single hotel in Bangkok, no seriously, like every single one.

So I know the handful that have no security and that’s where I’ll be staying.

No exceptions on the in-calls either, in Bangkok.

I don’t want to test any anxiety issues that may be lingering, my goal is to fly in, check in, then fly out 48 hours later and have nobody notice me … except for those who’ll be visiting.

 

The Price is Wrong, Bitch!

I used to enjoy the 1 hour sessions immensely.  Why?  Because my hand didn’t fall off, that’s why.

Edging a dick that’s on the verge of an atomic explosion for 120 minutes gives me Popeye sized wrists – without having to eat the Spinach.

The bump from 5k to 7k for the 1 hour Femdom / BDSM / Tease & Denial session simply reflects the time and energy I have to put in to either drive the 1.5 hours into Chiang Rai and back for a session …. or the 4 hours it takes for me to get from door to door here in Chaing Rai to hotel in Bangkok and back to do sessions.

But also …

The hope is that it knocks the demand for sessions down to a manageable level.

Look, I’ve been dormant for a year, I’ve posted on average only 1 story per month on here since September of 2023 – and I’m still getting 4 emails per day for sessions.  And I haven’t even done email for a year!

I’ve answered absolutely nobody for 400 days and yet the session requests still pour in.

Once I fire up the forge – ie: start writing for this blog every day, the session requests would no doubt revert back to the 10-12 we were getting in the middle of last year.

Let’s say 1/2 of those were for Jaa, which they weren’t at the end, but ok, let’s say that was the case.  That’s still 5-6 session request for me – per day.  Not something I’m willing to do – given the distance I have to travel.

No.  I want 6-10 session requests per month if indeed it is possible to get that number that low, and from those – I’ll choose 3-4 of the one’s I’d like to do the most.  Say, 1 in Bangkok, 3 here.  That’d be peachy 🙂

I’m not looking to do the 30 sessions per month I was doing … taking all of the ones that Mistress Jaa didn’t want to do.  Nope.  Not gonna do it.  Wouldn’t be prudent at this juncture.

 

 

I’m the Best, simply that.

This is me grabbing a whole lot of shade in my hand.

This is me not just throwing shade, but zinging it across the room in the general direction of someone we all know.

I am the best.  I always have been.

I have this Excel chart that keeps track of repeat customers since the start of 2022, January 2nd to be exact.

It keeps track of clients who booked me or someone other than me and when they booked again it would tell me they were a repeat customer, when they booked previously and it kept a running total at the bottom of the % of repeat clients each of us had.

There were two numbers at the bottom of that chart, at 48% and a 95% …. of which, I owned the 95.

If you ask me, given the hell I’ve gone through this past year, the experience of catering to every single fantasy you can think of, for so many clients, and add to that the 10 years of experience I built up solving all kinds of fantasy requests … this version of me is going to be the best version of me as a Mistress, far above the excellence I already provided.

Add to that the smaller things like my mastery over AI, my 16kg weight loss journey … 1/2 of which I have to now repeat as the injection made me put 8 of those kg’s back on, and my ascendance to being without question one of the top 3 scat dominas in the world … uh which includes this #1 song I created on udio :

 

 

Ya add all those things into the soup and I’d say without a doubt – I’m Head Mistress quality.

Wasn’t ready for that title a year ago.  I am now.  Let’s go.

 

Head Mistress Wael | Head Mistress Wael | Head Mistress Wael | Head Mistress Wael | Head Mistress Wael | Head Mistress Wael | Head Mistress Wael | Head Mistress Wael | Head Mistress Wael

^ threw that in to boost the seo.  I can’t be bothered to write that full title out in every paragraph.

 

Your next stop should be the Fees & Bookings page.  Either click on that link or do the Wayne’s World Scooby Doo ending sound effect to warp your way to that page, either way works. Buh bye 🙂

 

Mistress Wael