I love service slaves

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This will be a painfully (not in a good way) unsexy post for most of you.

Still here?

Guys tell me every day they want to serve me. Read that wording again.

Some of you will see what’s wrong with that sentence.

For those who actually ask how they can serve me, the answer, disappointingly, is usually not anything like tongue cleaning my ass (which is the most common request, as if I’m unable to properly clean myself and am always desperate for someone to use their tongue for what I’ve been foolishly using my shower for all these years).

Sometimes what I want is a luxury item I wouldn’t typically splurge on but adore. Recently it was tea.

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Today my “tea slave” as I call him or as he’s otherwise know “Cuckold For Life” sent me a box of fancy teas that caused me SO much excitement I immediately boiled a kettle to try them out. I dare say I’ll get more joy from all that lovely tea than a guy licking the mud from my boots.

Now now, don’t pout perv. I said “more” joy, not that I don’t enjoy the other stuff. But darling this is reality and in my world, I’m drinking way more tea then I’m pissing in guys mouths.

And also…I’m not seeing anyone in person during Covid. I am drinking tea every day. So as worthless as my cuck slave is at being a stud, he serves me in MY way and that makes him a favorite. It’s okay to have good things to say about someone who is otherwise useless, a sexual failure. Being in service, like actual useful service, to Superior Goddess’s is what he’s on this earth to do. Knowing he’ll never sexually satisfy a women, he’s found a way to satisfy in different ways. Clever potato.

So there’s a love story about a Domme, her cuck and luxury tea.

xo

Mistress T

PS: Want more interaction than my vids or blog offer? Join my fan page and send me a message. I’ll respond…sometimes fast, sometimes not, but that’s what you get when it’s one person doing everything. I can make you little customized voice messages, send you pics, we can chat back & forth, yeah really. Cool, eh? https://www.loyalfans.com/Mistress-T

More fun in San Francisco…

I kept in touch with the male Dom who I met at The Power Exchange…he who flogged me first. He invited me to come back and I can resist anything except temptation.

On one trip I brought my boyfriend at the time. This turned out to be a poor choice but a worthwhile learning experience, but I’ll get to that. First I’ll tell you about meeting the famous “Midori” ( www.planetmidori.com ) Among other things, she’s known for being the author of “The Seductive Art of Japanese Bondage”. She was doing a rope bondage stage performance at a big fetish bash and I had the opportunity to help out behind the scenes body painting some of her victims/models. I got to meet her and received a signed copy of her recent CD of erotic stories. She was lovely and it was a thrill meeting someone so well known in the fetish community.

During this event I also had an opportunity to ‘bottom’ under some very talented Doms. I loved being strung up in front of a crowd. I was spanked, flogged and experimented on (electro-play, etc.). To be honest, I didn’t care for the acts (other than flogging) as much as I loved being watched.

I had been having my fun, checking in with my boyfriend from time-to-time. It was a big party, he was wandering off and coming back and I thought he was having a good time. I was deep in ‘sub space’ being flogged in front of a large crowd when I caught his eye and noticed something was off. I went up to him and asked. Things were NOT okay. He had just had enough of watching me ‘getting beaten’. He looked disgusted. People were watching us talk, they could read the situation. I was humiliated and ashamed. I felt like a freak for enjoying myself. I felt selfish for not realizing he wasn’t having fun. I was emotionally vulnerable after hours of ‘play and excitement’. It was like being dropped from a 10 story building. I just broke down.

That was about 10 years ago and I was not then who I am today. Now, at 35 I would likely not get myself into such a situation and if I did, I would react differently. Then, however, it was crushing. I cried in the cab all the way back to the hotel and cried all night. He did not try to comfort me. I felt like a disgusting human being for being into kinky stuff.

Obviously, we didn’t stay together, but that doesn’t even matter. The important lesson I learned was about emotion and the vulnerability of¬† ‘sub space’. It helped me later on to be a good Domme.

My journey in learning to accept my kinky side has not been a straight path. I had my set backs and uphill battles. Maybe you, my reader, have similar stories? I invite you to comment here if you like. I know I’m not alone in my love of kink anymore…you are not alone either *smile*.

MistressT Fetish Goddess

Vulnerable