Has it really only been 1,5 months since I began my search for my Owner? Well, I guess it’s time to share some of the progress I had during this period. It might look like I only received hilarious replies, most of them were. I still have a few to share. But this time I want to talk about those with whom I actually went on a date with. First one, which I dubbed the Twaddler. I’ve never met anyone who talked that much. I received his reply fairly early on, within a few days after I put on my ad. He seemed like what I’ve been looking for, talkative (if only I knew how talkative), determined, obviously Dominant and he lives fairly close to me. He was very tall and quite good-looking. He looked like he could be very scary looking when he wants to be. And I like scary looking guys. I sent him my story about a day in the future with my Owner, I wanted to know what he thinks about it and my thoughts about the potential future. What he sent me back was practically a review, like my story was a term paper. He pretty much rated my ‘paper’. O.o To say it was strange was an understatement. Strike one.
The Twaddler was very very into telling stories. He would send me stories about the time he spent in Thailand when he was young. Very long stories. I’m not really sure about the function of these stories. I mean, you can’t really impress a Chinese gal with stories about the absurdity and danger of Asia or its people. I’ve heard it all, I’ve lived some of it and I definitely wasn’t that impressed. Strike two. I have my own doubts about him as a person, but I decided to give him a chance by actually meeting face to face. I mean, some people are just reaaaally bad at the texting game. So there I went, on a Sunday evening, we met in one of my favorite watering hole. It’s really a thing, I always meet potentially new Doms for the first time in this same bar. Did I intend to have a session with him on the same evening? I can’t say I wasn’t prepared to do so, cos if it went as well as the first date with my Dom, I would love to play.
So a date in my fave bar. For four hours. And for four hours I barely said ten sentences. Don’t get me wrong, I love to talk! I love to talk about myself, I can endlessly talk about myself. But I think it’s extremely rude to not ask even one question from that other person when you’re on your first date. Not. One. Question. And I had to really fight for the chance to talk. But whenever I start telling something about myself, he would actually force my words into these really awkward transitions into yet again one of his stories. I love stories, but his stories weren’t that interesting. At first I thought he just wanted to impress me, and I just happened to be a wrong target for that. But as I listened to him going on and on and on, I came to the conclusion that he actually thinks he’s really impressive. Strike three was really the cold fact that I don’t think he was that into me. Or anyone else for that matter, anyone other than himself.
Needless to say, we didn’t play. It was the first time that someone’s personality is such a huge turn off that I really didn’t care that he was good-looking. I felt zero attraction to him. And I knew it was a really bad date because the only highlight of the evening was when my Dom sent me a message to check whether I was still alive or not. 😀 Always so sweet, Sir. 😉 And someone finally asked me a question! And I was so pent up that on my way home I chatted with four different person. Then when I got home I had to call my gal friend and I practically screamed in my phone “ASK ME QUESTIONS!” My dear gal friend, God bless her, indulged me numerous stupid questions and listened to me babble on and on to get it all out. She actually even tried to make me feel better about my date by saying stuff like ‘maybe he was nervous’. So even though there was strike three, I didn’t scream ‘you’re out’ just yet. I did that the following day, the notorious Mondays. It was a very emotional morning, as I received news that my sister sub went on to have a brilliant new adventure. So to the Twaddler I sent messages saying that I was feeling sad because I just lost my sister sub. And he, proving himself to be the self-centered son of a bitch that I already suspected he was, he actually sent me messages saying the following: “Life is tough sometimes. But that’s not even close to my own top 5 misfortunes.” I was stunned. Did this motherfucker just compare my misfortune to his own and deemed mine unworthy of even a word of compassion? I didn’t even get the cliche ‘I’m sorry to hear that’ because my day didn’t suck enough for his taste? Yup, he was so out.
Just talking about the Twaddler pisses me off. Let’s move on to something far more pleasant. Roughly ten days after the Twaddler, I got a reply from a man whom I would call Mr J for now. His message was fairly simple, and he left his username for a chatting app and there was a profile picture of him. If I have to pinpoint one thing that got me sending him a message through that app, it has to be his eyes. There were something about those eyes that made me feel a little weak on my knees. So we started chatting. And we did that for quite a while. Remember I said that the weekend two weeks ago was a roller-coaster? Well, it was the weekend that I got to know Mr J wasn’t moving to my city to live, that for now he is to remain almost three hours away from me (by car) because of his job. Despite that, I still went to his city to meet him for the first time last weekend. I, however, that it wasn’t probably a good idea to have a session, considering the circumstances (me sucking at long-D). He promised we weren’t going to play. What a stupid decision from me. What a stupid stupid girl I was. Of course I didn’t take into consideration that I was going to have a long break from my last session, over two weeks, or that I was going to be that horny when spending a weekend at Mr J’s place. I also couldn’t predict that I would like him so much. I like that we had the most random things in common like horror movies. I like that he makes me laugh a lot. I like that he’s mean and hate stupid people, which means I can never make a joke too offensive for his taste. I like that he calls me ‘little one’. I like that he does make me feel little, cos he’s really tall. I love the fact that he’s a much bigger sadist that he let on in the beginning.
On Saturday night, before going to sleep, it became painfully evident to me that he was indeed keeping his promise not to play. I was well aware of that. I however wanted to hear the answer ‘no’. I needed to hear to. Cos I’m a masochist. So I asked him, in bed in the dark: “What can I do for us to play?” I knew the answer already before he answered “Nothing. There was nothing you can do.” I smiled at that into the darkness. That was what I needed to hear. A moment of silence and then I heard him asked: “What was your question again?” At that I couldn’t keep myself from giggling. Was he really making me ask again? Yes he was. Fucking sadist. I asked again, so he could say ‘nothing’ to me again. To say that I was turned on was an understatement. I could feel heat radiating from my pussy. I was wet and so fucking horny. And the fact that I was sleeping on a huge bed with him, and the headboard of the bed was practically a whipping stock. Made from wood, with mechanisms to secure wrists. Oh what I wouldn’t have done to get my wrists in that headboard…
It was painful but fun. And on Sunday before I left Mr J’s place, I chatted a bit with my Dom. According to Him, the tone I used in my messages sounded like I was begging for a spanking. Fuck yes I was. So after almost 24 hours of emotional torture of a sadist, I was going to get some physical torture from another sadist before the weekend was over. On Sunday evening, upon my arrival home, my Dom paid me a visit. I was under an impression that I was finally going to get some release, aka some cock in me. My Dom asked when He was on His way to my place, on the scale from 1-10, how much I wanted. My answer: spanking roughly at 37, and for a cock 100. And I ended up getting a really good spanking that left me sniffing and crying, but He cockblocked me. -.- According to Him, I didn’t ask nicely enough for His cock. Instead He made me jerk Him off while He was choking me. So that I would get dripping wet from the choking (He knows how much I like it) and all I could get was feel how hard and big His cock was in my hand and knowing I wasn’t getting that thing in my vagina… So I actually thought it was a good idea to have two sadists in my life? I must truly be a masochist… So these were my weekend adventures. I can’t wait to play with Mr J next time we meet.