From Mundane To Mistress

Breasts, can't live with them....or can you?

Date: Tuesday, November 30, 2010

I’ve nicknamed my breasts “Thelma & Louise” (bet you can’t guess which is which!) because these girls are always getting me in trouble.

When I first started to “develop” I was big into sports and soccer was a favorite of mine. I was the short, wide-shouldered girl who played defense and was nicknamed “The Wall”. I loved soccer, it was one of the few sports I felt that my height gave me an advantage. But when T&L started making their debut I felt really self-conscious about running because of all the…er…movement that was involved. We won one game entirely due to the fact that the boy who was the opposing team’s star player and forward couldn’t stop staring at T&L whenever he got near our goal. His Mother actually crossed the field to tell my Mother that I needed a better, less distracting bra.
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The first airplane trip I took, I was young and flying alone. A man walked over to me, to which I now describe as the wolf in those old Looney Tune cartoons with his tongue wagging and eyes bulging. I was naive (yes, there was such a time) and didn’t think much of his demeanor.

“Are the puppies okay?” he asked with a slight smirk.

I thought of my cat back home.

“What puppies?” I asked genuinely.

“The two puppies fighting under your shirt,” he replied with a perverted grin.
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My first year of college I won first place in a local wet t-shirt contest that resulted in pictures being photocopied and pasted in my dorm hall.

I was a campus celebrity.
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But, I went home this month to help my Mom with aftercare; she had breast reduction surgery. My Mom was “DD”, she complained of back and neck pain occasionally but apparently it was a lot worse than she let on. I’m “DDD” and haven’t had any problems as of yet. Again, I think my short/stout physique really helps with that. I never feel as if my breasts are uncomfortable, though they do get in the way at times. Know the last time I saw my feet as I walked down stairs? My sister is much larger than I am. She refuses to find out her proper size but if I had to guess I’d say she’s an “H”. My Mom wasn’t sad to see her breasts go, she jokingly said she’s too old to need them anymore but it got me thinking...

What would I do without T&L? Being of mixed race I am a bit of a hodgepodge of ethnic parts, I definitely didn’t get what I’ve dubbed “the black girl ass”, I’ve been told I have child-birthing hips, my legs are short, my feet are wide, and my shoulders are broad. I am anything but the “typical” woman. My breasts are my favorite assets just ahead of my lips. They’ve gotten me free drinks, funny questions, trips around the world, a boat (don’t ask), reduced college tuition, second and third glances, warnings instead of speeding tickets, special treatment…the works.

Not to mention, I fill out a mean corset!

The doctor who did my Mom’s work asked if I was next, to which I answered, “You wish you could get a glimpse of these babies!” and shimmied in his direction.

Thelma and Louise get me in trouble but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Married without children

Date: Thursday, November 18, 2010

I use to have another blog on this site that I used primarily for meticulously detailed information on how I was training my sub at the time.

While I found it fun at the time it sort of petered out once we broke up and I haven't updated it since. I was contemplating whether or not to delete it last month when I realized I had a comment that I had never responded to. Typically I would've called it a lost cause but this person was only searching for friends within the scene and left their email address, so I responded to the year+ old comment explaining what happened.

We chatted a few days later and upon talking, the reader, a male, asked if I'd be free for dinner or drinks that night. I happily obliged as I'm always up for meeting new people and drinking seems to be a local past-time here.

He got to the bar before myself and even though we hadn't exchanged pictures, I just knew it was him. We got a table and began chatting.

"So do you have a girlfriend?," I asked him almost immediately after seating.

"Yes", he answered.

"Did you tell her you were meeting me tonight?" I asked skeptically.

"No" he responded plainly.

"Are you going to tell her?", I questioned again.

Again he replied, "No".

I tried to let the issue go as we talked about general ideals; nothing too risque.

I kept eying the ring on his finger.

Our food arrived, he asked about my blog and some of the things I've done in the lifestyle.

I kept eying the ring on his finger.

We ordered more drinks and we started talking about our sexual interests.

But I couldn't stop eying the ring on his finger.

Finally I probed again about his relationship status by explaining my open relationship situation to him.

At last he said sheepishly, "Yeah...I should tell you, I'm married."

As the words tumbled from his mouth I felt myself fighting the urge to leave.

I may be some women's worst nightmares next to their husbands but they should fear not. I am very firm in my plight against anything to do with married individuals who play, plan to play, sleep around, cheat, etc unbeknownst to their spouses. So as he sat there and lamented about how his and his wife's sexual tastes didn't mesh up, she'd never really understand, he had unmet desires, blah, blah, blah I could only feel a twinge of annoyance.

I can't feel sympathy for someone who has placed themselves in what they later deem an "undesirable situation". I can only acknowledge their stupidity and lack of ability to critically think out an arrangement such as marriage fully. It's not really a prison when you're the warden.

When I asked him, "What would you do if you found someone you connected with sexually?"

He danced around the issue before answering honestly, "In reality I'd probably do what I wanted but not tell my wife unless it evolved into an ongoing thing or turned serious."

Yes, he really said that aloud.

We wrapped it up not too long thereafter (thankfully the metallic taste from all the tongue biting was getting to me) but when I got home I still felt very dirty. I am upset that my right to make a fully infomed decision was taken away from me with his lies. If he had told me the truth; that he was married, I probably would have never met him for drinks and dinner. Period.

This shit may work for celebrities but I am not looking to be anyone's Mistress on the side (not that he asked me)...but it got me thinking of past experiences when I have been asked. I need to be full, front and center.

As if a Mistress can ever truly be happy being "the other woman". Pfft!

No harm no foul

Date: Sunday, November 07, 2010

"Hunting" season is officially over. I wish I could say I was sad to see it go but I am exhausted from my interview-esque dating schedule. I'm happy to be able to relax and focus on myself for a bit and with the holiday months just around the corner it all works out.

And it wasn't all bad, I got to meet lots of subs and weeded out the bullshitters. There are a few subs I'm still chatting with but haven't met who hopefully I'll get to meet in person soon...I'm just not meeting any new subs.

I'll spend this off-time making some new friends, further fine-tuning my fetishes, and as always continuing my research on the community.

I was looking over an older entry at the fetishes I wanted to try and it's interesting to see what I've experienced in just a year.

Objectification

The sweet youngling (newly 19) who begged for me to just use him as I saw fit for the day. To not treat him as a person, to objectify him. Giving into something I've been dying to try was easy. As soon as I arrived at his house I made him carry my shoes in his mouth and proceeded to use him as a table for my laptop (with him laying across my lap), a footstool that I tapped to the music playing on my iPod, and a table where I sat a glass of wine and a bowl of soup and ate while I watched a movie. He was splendid and didn't spill a drop. Afterward he said he really felt like he was an object as I had little to no regard for any spills, hot items, or uncomfortableness that I imposed on him.

Mummification

An older recently divorced male approached me in the area. We talked over dinner and he confessed the reason he had so eagerly sought to meet with me was because not only had his marriage fallen apart due to his and his wife's view on sexuality but it was also because of his desires which included being mummified for a full day. His dream was to practice a wife led marriage (which she wouldn't agree to). It would mean all the more if it were to entail someone exactly opposite of his wife who was a meek, pale, boyishly shaped housewife. "I wanted someone who could eat my wife for breakfast", he said blushing. As for me I happen to be beautifully brown, wide hips, full breasted, completely dominant and had no problem with wrapping him up in industrial size saran wrap and leaving him under the glass table as I sat in his living room reading a book. Occasionally I'd press on his balls with my newly purchased boots just to hear him moan, sit on his snugly wrapped face; covering his only source of breathing, or all together ignore his pleas to be released (which was something we discussed beforehand). It was quite an experience and I'm assuming by his constant plastic wrapped erection throughout the ordeal he thought so as well.

Panty Sniffing

Usually I'm pretty protective of my undergarments. Even for submissives, I don't trust them to take care of them or not to do dirty things to them as I have often caught a few engaging in such behavior. But I started thinking of it not so much as something I need to be protective of but just another extension of my womanly power over men. Being a person who is highly turned on by certain smells I thought I'd give this a try. I went to the gym and did my daily routine before meeting a sub from Craigslist for drinks. He said he wanted to pay for my panties (I declined) but he was a handsome, unsuspecting chap who was wonderful to chat with. He nearly got on his knees at the bar we were at when I said I wouldn't give him my undies. I toyed with him telling him that perhaps the next time we met I would. Little did he know I had all intentions of giving him my slightly sweaty panties. When he went up to go to the bathroom, I slipped them off under the table (un-noticed I hope!) and stuffed them into his jacket pocket. Shortly after I stated I had to run but I wanted him to get on webcam chat with me in about 2 hours, to which he happily agreed, especially if it meant he could prove himself to me for my underwear next visit. Once we got on chat, I gave him a few commands (seeing a man on his knees never gets old!) and then I instructed him to go retrieve the jacket he'd worn to drinks. He was pretty perplexed but did as he was told. When I revealed my surprise to him, he started to pre-cum instantly. Honestly, there's nothing like seeing a man's dick drool for you. Upon sniffing my panties he begged to masturbate for me. I allowed him to do so as long as he came on my underwear and licked up his come. He did so without argument. I was definitely surprised by his intense response to my panties and even more surprised when he complimented my womanly smell as "earthy and fresh" lol.

This all makes me want to try even more things I'm curious about as so far all of my trials have been very insightful and highly erotic. Once hunting season is back on the fresh meat better watch out!

Things I am interested in have generally stayed the same but here's my updated version of the other list:

Fetishes I am curious about and/or want to try

Red= No longer want to try

Blue= Newly added