Dreaming About Domination

Dreaming About Domination

Dreaming is good,  Just ask The Sandman. There would be no world if there were no dreams. If you ask an Aboriginal Australian, they would tell you that dreams are more real than the awake. Lately, I have been dreaming about domination. I believe things will be opening up soon. Play clubs and the like. Domination phone sex is our site of the month. The interest in it escalates. I’m planning a trip to L.A. to join my friends at a munch and plan the future. A party is planned after.

I Miss Wearing Rubber

Dressed in rubber with my collared slave following behind attached to a leash. Showing my membership card to this club and entered with pride. I am a Femdom who enjoys this liberation, free from any kind of submissive desires. I leave that to the men I play with, to be submissive, just the way I like them. They have my utmost respect because they know who is superior. They are brave and happy beneath my rubber-clad hand.

The Mistress And The Servant

Being a Femdom comes with great responsibility. I am responsible mostly for this submissive who must adore me. In a FLR, the Femdom decides all. Her slave is the submissive servant who knows his place. This is not just randomly decided. It must fit like a hand in a glove. In the clubs, you run into plenty of glitterati and players just testing it out. The serious players prevail. It’s the lifestyle and all relationships are different.

The Rain In Spain

Lots of thunder as I type this. I have had at least six outages here in Arizona. It’s like the tropics here with humidity and wearing rubber is out of the question. It can be sexy though as the sweat creates pockets of dampness that massage the body. I came home from dinner last night to find all of the clocks blinking. The daily outages. Fortunately, none happened during a call. There is nothing worse than a twirling sissy hearing a click rather than the laughter of humiliation. The final and last edge of a cock control call, a promised cum eating denied in the cruelest way.

In Summary, It’s A Very Cruel Summer

The Primitive Arts class was canceled. I was the last one standing. I was ok with it. It began to be a bitch fest of complaining about how things would turn out in the Sonoran desert. How else do things turn out in the Sonoran desert? It wouldn’t be comfortable and air-conditioned. There will not be a restaurant nearby, and I won’t have a boy clearing my neck of perspiration. Right now I was shown where to forage and how to make a bow and arrows. I will finish it alone with lots of trials and arrows.

Mistress Cassandra 1-800-730-7164