A - B - C - D - E - F - G

My sister and I have decided to take the needle plunge and get our G-spots injected with Restylane. I can't wait to fuck after I get my G done. I have to wait 24 hours after the 'G-Spot Amplification', as the procedure is called, before I abandon myself to endless orgasms. I have already lined up my fuck (see photo) and his 8" whitemeat.

I've texted fatfuck and said I am going to take him up on his G-spot offer and am bringing a friend. Little does ff know that my sister will be showing up. He will probably pass out and need to be revived with one of those ammonia ampules. We are going later this week. My sister will also be meeting the toad. She says the toad and I are in trouble, so she has put on her evil thinking cap and will come up with some manipulative ideas to keep the toad's family at bay.

I've got finals cumming up and I just can't even think straight right now. So why am I getting my G-spot done now and not waiting till after finals, you may ask. I am beta'd out by all these beta boys, I need some 'fucking' stress relief (pun intended)!



{No, he's not a surfer, he just happens to surf.}

Dinner at Mama Toad's

As I had written in a past post, I was dreading an appearance for dinner at Mama Toad's place. What better way to start your week than undergoing the Spanish Inquisition as conducted by Mama Toad. The dinner gathering featured Mama Toad, toad, Tia Maria and yours truly. Thankfully Mercedes the Witch & Co. was not present. My appearance fee for this special event was $300, but I should have charged more since it involved a grueling interrogation. In fact, after we left, I smacked toad in the car and told him he was STILL not doing a good job convincing his family that our love was real.

My interrogation garb: I wore a long blue sarong style print skirt, wedgie heels and a light blue top and kept my make-up minimal, no perfume. Mama Toad wasted no time in starting her interrogation as I was sure, haha, she had one of those hidden earpieces and Mercedes was feeding her questions.

So, how did you and toad meet, I have forgotten since the wedding?

Did you notice toad first, or did he notice you?

Did someone formally introduce you or did you introduce yourselves?

Did you start dating right away?

How long have you been dating?

And your Mother is from Venezuela, but your father is American?

(My Mother isn't from Venezuela, but this was the only Latin American country toad could think of, where Mama Toad knew no one who either lived there or emigrated from there)

****

At this point of the Inquisition, toad should begged told his mama to zip the boca. But he just sat there, so pathetico, so docile, while I vomited responses. Rehearsed I might add, since I had anticipated all of them for the wedding event, and had an intuition that some might rise again at Mama Toad's dinner. I began thinking of escape routes. Perhaps I could tell Mama Toad that her wimp-of-a-son is my slave and see what type of reaction she would have. Although I could picture Tia Maria laughing at this and saying something like: All men are slaves to women. Tia Maria was the only one in the room with any sense of humor, this was certainly amplified by the rum & cokes she was drinking.

So I finally sighed, acted tired, and said: So many questions, I'm exhausted. Did toad tell you that my doctor said I am suffering from exhaustion? A long pause. Then Tia Maria said something: Yes you too skinny girl. I was a skinny girl. Look I had babies! Look now old! I added: Yes, everyone including toad tells me I'm too skinny, that I need some 'meat on my bones'. Tia Maria said something again: Yes men meat. No gusta skinny girls bones. Tia Maria at least made an attempt to speak English to me. And on that note, toad and his mamacita begin barreling along en Espanol. I was just so fed up with their doing this in front of me. I tapped toad's arm. Excuse me, but could you translate, I feel so left out of these conversations and you haven't taught me enough Spanish (on top of my classes.) Toad says: Sorry sorry sorry, three times, as if once was not enough. Mamacita got up and began to serve dinner. She and Tia Maria had spent a lot of time on this dinner, I could tell, since I know when my Mother does the same, and I tried to be a good dinner guest, I really did. But you could have cut the tension in the air with a dull knife. Something was not right in Little Havana. I didn't know till later what that was.

After slapping toad in the car, he announced. My mother thinks you are too young for me and that you will just leave me for a younger man. Is that all, I asked?

Well, she thinks you might just be using me for my money.

What money, I yell. You don't even have any!

The money I'm going to have when I sell my real estate.

Chump change, toad, chump change. There are other men in Miami with far more money, who I could fuck for more money than you could ever hope to have.

I told her I met you before anything was happening with the real estate. She thinks I should find a woman in her mid-30's who might have a child or two already. A Cuban woman. Who might be happy with the life she would have with me and not want more. She thinks you would leave me because you would want more than I could give. She thinks you are probably too much for me to handle.

I am too much for you to handle, you're so pathetic. You're not even a good boyfriend. You have conversations like this in front of me, how rude, how rude of you toad, and how rude of your mother.

Toad looked like he was going to cry. We were having a huge fight, and I think he thought he might lose me because I was angry at him, but I also think he was feeling the pressure of Mama Toad and Mercedes to dump me. In favor of what, going back to his lonely toad hole? In favor of them continuing to control him and get what they wanted from him, which in Mercedes' case, would be extracting money from him and cuckolding her brother? What happened to Mama Toad siding with me in the case of Mercedes? So much going on behind the scenes, obviously, Mercedes' miasmal influence on everyone, because she perceives she has more to lose, than I have to gain.

Clearly, putting in personal appearances was no longer productive. I was just fuel, throwing myself onto their flames. And this elaborate charade was enervating me beyond anything I can compare. I could only tell myself I needed to hang in to get the money from toad for my tuition, hang in. I was so pissed when I got home that I called a few friends to see who was out and about, and headed to a club. Monday nites aren't big party nites, but I needed this time out from dealing with the toad. And I did forget about him and his miserable family, if only for a few hours. Slaves can get into your head, and sometimes the price they pay you, isn't worth having them there.

INJECT my G-SPOT with WHAT?????

Today was fatfuck Wednesday, not a long session either as fatfuck is very busy mobilizing a new injectible Restylane campaign. Injecting g-spots. Injecting G-SPOTS? I almost fainted in the hotel room. That's fucked up, I said. Well, the word is out on Restylane being this new orgazzmic miracle. So what does it exactly do? I ask. Apparently, it helps women become orgasmic, more orgasmic or multi-orgasmic.

All I can picture is something icky and gynecological, putting your legs in the stirrups, having that medieval speculum torture device inserted and doctor injecting your G. Fatfuck offers a freebie if I want to try it. I really don't want fatfuck looking into my pink depths and sticking a needle in there?

Luckily, this icky spell was broken when stunt cockboy arrived, so fatfuck could suck him off and hurry away to inject G-spots. Ironic, that fatfuck will be helping women to have mo' better Big O's when he never sticks his weenie into a vadge anymore, let alone that his little weenie probably never hit a G-spot ever.

FUCKING with the toad

This afternoon I called toad, without a prompt, to see if he might be at his mom's for Sunday dinner. He was there with mama toad, Mercedes the Witch, her evil offspring, and a distant relative on mama toad's side of the family who they call Tia Maria. I know, funnyhaha since there is a liqueur of the same name. This Tia Maria is like a great-aunt of the toad's. Of course, toad sounds or is trying to sound so suave, make that suav-ay on the phone with me. I tell him I'm so tired from working all weekend at the club, my feet are killing me and that he better come over and massage them and for this the fee will be $100. Yes, yes, he is saying. I hear his relatives babbling in Spanish. Tell everyone I said hello toad! I hear him pass along my greetings. Silencio on the other end. I get angry with the toad. Toad it's all your fault if your family thinks thinks that our love isn't real, YOU aren't convincing enough. Then toad burbles, can we talk about this later? No, I say. You need to make a believable impression on your family, especially Mercedes, that we are really novio and novia, comprendes?

This is my pathetic conversational Spanish, inserting Spanish words within English sentences. Si, comprendo, toad utters. Anyway, I know I must plot how to make the coven believe that there is a real emotional connection between the toad and me. Just not the type that ends with happily ever after.

TOAD on VIAGRA???


I have been telling toad that I haven't been feeling like myself lately, that I have lost 3 pounds, true, and 3 pounds are precious when you're dropping closer to 100, that I feel tired all the time, and that my periods are just draining me, taking 10 days out of my life every month, what with PMS, killer cramps and bleeding time. I have to pop iron pills to stave off anemia. I have told toad that he will have to suffer in sympathetic resonance to my time-of-the-month by wearing kotex pads, which he negotiated down to panty liners, since he was afraid that the squishing noise of the diaper-like pad would be too apparent. Also he keeps asking me, what if he gets into a car accident while wearing his panties, CB2000 and mini-pad and they take him to the hospital and everyone sees his secret shame??

My sister, remember she's a nurse, has regaled me with stories of what people have come into the E.R. wearing or stuffed in different orifices. No one cares toad, I told him. Which is only partially true. During the acute emergency, the patient is attended to, but after the crisis is over, at 6 a.m., when everyone is standing around chit-chatting about the overnite shift's cases, everyone does get a little kick out of the panty-wearing, locked up or frozen hot dog up the arse fagboys. What most people don't know about the anal insertions, my sister says, that what goes up will come down, most likely, with their next bowel movement, but most people panic and want it out now. And they, in their moment of hysteria, put aside all dignity.

What my sister has found most amusing of late, are the number of men coming in with priapism, you know 'the erection lasting longer than 4 hours', due to the rampant use of the little blue pill and its pharmaceutical cousins. Some are quite proud of their priapic state, since when if ever did their dick garner so much attention? But my sister reports that almost as soon as they see the nurse roll in a stainless steel cart with a set of needles and catheters, from veterinary gauge to elephantine, their erection mysteriously disappears. We don't have to inject too many of the dicks, she laughs. It just goes to show you 'mind over matter'. Or the moral of the story: Dicks don't mind having hard-ons for hours.

I've thought of making toad take a little blue pill while wearing his dickie cage, the cruelty of it! Alas I'm not that cruel. But I do have toad believing that I am frail, weary from working and studying and lack of sleep, and that it is his fault! After all, I shouldn't have to do be a cocktail serving wench, he should have me on retainer by now. But he is waiting for his lot to sell, and the one rental property to get to settlement, which will take about 6 - 8 weeks, too long! I can't wait that long I told him. I have a faux doctor's appointment this week. Who knows what he will recommend I cry to the toad. I have toad in a mini-manic state of trying to do things for me to make my life easier. It's fun seeing toad scurry. But currency is better.

The Further Misadventures of slave toad

Toad reported that his mother and sister talk about "us" all the time. And what do they say I asked. He wasn't quite sure, but he thinks they doubt whether our 'love' is real. You mean they might think I'm a hooker? I was ready to smack his face, he turned his cheek. I don't know exactly what they think, he insisted, but they are suspicious. So I told him our new strategy was that we must make more personal appearances and that he must mention our dates to them in detail. So when he had to drop off his mother's and sister's tax returns for their signatures (he prepared them), I had to 'ride dirty' with the toad.

I decided to play myself down. Instead of looking like an expensive, unattainable thing of beauty, as I had at the family wedding, I wore just jeans (but expensive ones), a beige top, and no make-up. I propped my sunglasses up on my head to keep my hair back and wore only tiny gold stud earrings and my cross, no perfume. My nails? A subtle French polish manicure, nothing ghetto-licious or attention-demanding.

Toad's mother was surprised, but gracious when I showed up with the toad. She said that toad's cousin and her husband loved the chimenea, and that it was very thoughtful, as she understood from the toad, that it was my selection. Then their convo mutated from English into Spanish, make that rapid Spanish, so I could only grasp a word here and there. Then the convo ended abruptly. Toad informed that we were on our way out to dinner and perhaps to a movie. I smiled my demure 'girlfriend' smile. But first, he said we were on our way to Mercedes' apartment so she could sign and mail her tax return. Toad's mother said we would have to come over for dinner sometime, she would cook an authentic Cuban meal. I said, por supuesto, she said for me to let toad know a nite next week.

All this means is that toad must pay more $$$ for the true GFE (girlfriend experience) and GFA (girlfriend appearance). If he wants his family to believe that he is no longer a loser, that he has a girlfriend, then it will cost him. So far he hasn't balked about any $$$ I have requested as payment for our dates, my personal appearances, etc. I think he knows that having a real girlfriend, even if he could find and keep one, would cost him anyway. At least he knows where he stands. He can feel love for me all he wants, he can dote on me and he can worship me, but all I will do is despise him and keep him enslaved.

On the ride over to Mercedes' place, Toad tuned in to a Spanish radio station, he politely asked if I minded this particular station, which I didn't. I have taken classes in Spanish, including specialized classes for the medical professional. The Spanish market for in my soon-to-be profession is explosive, and I'm trying to learn more Spanish so that I can possibly work in that mode. But real conversational Spanish isn't easy for me. I should ask toad to tutor me, but I don't want to feel like I am beholden to him for anything. My sister, who is a nurse, suggested a twist where I make him pay to teach me more Spanish.

So we drop by Mercedes' apartment, not in the nicest of neighborhoods, but doesn't look gang ruled, just lower income. Mercedes acts bitchy, the kids didn't like what she made for dinner and are sulking at the kitchen table. I wink at them and they giggle. Mercedes grabs her tax return, do I owe any fucking money? No, you're getting money back. Can I go to H&R Block and get that quick money offer? I think that's a loan Mercedes and they take a cut. I can do an e-file which will get the return information to the IRS faster and get you the money faster.

At least they are speaking in English, but no sooner do I think that when they switch to Espanol. Then Mercedes cel phone rings, Nelly Furtado's 'Loose' ringtone. Mercedes answers Papi, her voice becomes sultry and flirtatious and toad gives a hard-to-classify look.

Then I have a mini-epiphany, THIS is toad's ex. Mercedes doesn't like that I have come between her and her brother. She will always be suspicious of me, and will endeavor to sabotage our relationship, plus she will keep sowing seeds of suspicion in their mother's ear. But her instincts are right. She is fucking some ultra hot Latino with a big cock. She can sniff out if a girl is getting it. While I am getting it, it's not from her brother's worthless, locked up cock.

One nite I was prattling on about toad and Mercedes and my friend said STOP. WAIT. And I said huh? And he said she CUCKOLDS him. And I said, but they aren't having sex. They don't have to have sex, it's still a cuckold relationship, just a different flavor. And you know, my friend was right. And I shall blog about it in an upcoming post.

But in the meantime, I did a gayass-ed thing. I made toad buy a custom ringtone for his phone, which is now my song for him and vice versa for me. I told him that he should text me when he might be at his sister's or his mother's this weekend and I will call so that they can hear his gayass ringtone and then he can answer Mami....

Toad chose a Ricky Martin song, because I told him he had to choose a Ricky Martin song because Ricky Martin is gay. So he went with 'La Vida Loca' (actually the lyrics work, check it). I chose JLo's 'Love Don't Cost a Thing' hehe.

http://tinyurl.com/2rrh47 <----La Vida Loca Lyrics

HOW the toad MET MY MOTHER

I believe it was a life-changing event for the toad. I don't think he had ever met a girl's mother before, meaning the loser had never gotten to that crucial point in a relationship. He truly believes I am his girlfriend. Certain subtle or not-so-subtle things reinforce this for him, I went to a wedding with him as his girlfriend, I date him (well he pays me, but....), and add to the list, meeting my Mother....

What happened was, we (make that he) had to get a wedding gift for his cousin. I saw on the wedding gift wish list, a chimenea, one of those chimney-looking thingies people put on their patios, to sit out at nite, light a fire, take the chill out of the air. My Mom had one on her balcony, a gift from her ex-boyfriend, she never used it because it was against her condo assoc. rules to use one, due to the potential smoke, and I assume fire hazard. So I told toad he had to buy it from my Mom, carry it out to his car without dropping it and embarrassing me. Told him that my Mom's ex-boyfriend was far more manly and strong, and had carried it in bla bla bla. So my Mom made a few hundred out of the deal.

But it did mean I had to talk to my Mom about the toad. Oh you and your sister and your slaves....But she was amped about getting $ for something useless to her and getting rid of something her ex-bf gave her.

Toad was sooo nervous about meeting my Mom, and he sweats when he's nervous. My Mom took delight in torturing me while we were there, being overly gracious to the point where I wanted to puke. She showed toad pics of me and my sister growing up. She gave him a glass of lemonade (apropos if it were piss). She talked about how glad she was I was dating a mature man who had accomplished something in life rather than those young jerks I usually dated. My Mother did some acting when she was younger (Miami Vice), and she was clearly enjoying this.

Toad then had to carry the chimenea out to the car. It struck me while he was carrying it, the chimenea is a phallic symbol! It looked like he was carrying a huge penis!!! How perfect. And fuck me I didn't have a camera.

Toad asked if he could tell his mother and sister that he met my Mom and I said, of course. I could just picture the look on their faces (utter disbelief?) when he told them he had met my Mother.

APRIL'S BIGGEST LOSER OF THE MONTH

Flower Power Bikini Faggot!!

I didn't even have to force or coerce him into wearing this flower power piece to the pool. Bikini faggot likes everyone to stare at him, and how pathetic he is. Attention whorelet! What is he doing with his towel? Is he ready to throw it in and go completely gay? Or is he finally surrendering to the forces of gay? Although bikini faggot denies this, I think that is his girlfriend or wife in the background teasing us with her lard!

BPBF is not a big spender, he calls my SPURT line, because it doesn't take long for his finger puppet to spew, ewwwwww....

CHEAP REVISITED

Now why didn't I think of this? Sometimes I think my dominant mind is just tuned to a different station. One of my fans read my blog and rewrote a superior response to Slave Cheap Cheap's inquiry about a vacay in Naples. Remember, this is Naples as in Florida, not as in Italy.

slave Cheap cheap,

One of my regular fans suggested a way that I might be able to take advantage of you and fully exploit your offer the way a dominant Goddess should. First of all you are offering airfare which I won't need. Let's say that is $500. Next you talked about fine dining and all that. Lets figure $200/day while you are here - you didn't really think I would go out to dinner with you, did you shithead?? So right off the top you have $1900 to give me for the incredible privlege of allowing your pathetic self in my presence.

As you see the plan unfold, you will now realize that you don't even need that shitty time share, have a service rent it out. If you commit now that will allow them plenty of time to get it rented. Besides, Naples is where old wrinkled prunes go to shrivel in the sun, there is NO nightlife, nothing that would attract a young superior Goddess in her 20's like ME. Another $1000 or so (hopefully more, whatever it is, its mine all mine!). If you can get things up in the $3000 range then I can begin take you seriously.

You will report to me on the 2nd. You'll be staying in a local hostel or ymca which shouldn't cost you more than $20 a day. You can eat salads at the local supermarket salad bar or other low cost sources of food, but none of that junk food. From the looks of you, you need to be on a serious diet anyway. A bowl of cereal, a salad and loaf of good bread and cheese, plenty of nutrition without wasting my money. I prefer to see you lose at least 10 lbs while you are here - at least you can go home with less of you to show for your "vacation".

Each day you will accompany me as we go on a shopping trip to spend your money on nice things for me. I must correct you though, expect to be humiliated in public. Imagine me trying on a pair of stiletto heels, slipping them on my precious little feet, showing off my legs...of course you'll be standing there drooling, completely absorbed by my presence and I'll probably have to slap your pathetic face right in front of the sales girl to remind you to get that credit card out of your pocket. But have no fear very soon that stiletto will be driving itself into your fat gut, balls and face!!

After each shopping trip we will go somewhere for a session of humiliation, discipline and degradation for you. You may write me with your experience, likes and dislikes. Keep it to no more than a page and if it is to my liking I will accommodate your interest but let me assure you, things will be bent to my desires and interests. I already have a slave to keep the place clean so I will have to find some additional duties for you, do you have any other marketable skills? After an hour of delicious fun for me and something all together different for you, expect to be thrown out with your ass and face burning from pain, humiliation or both as you return to the Y contemplating what you've become.

Of course when you aren't with me you are free to hang out at the beach, work on your tan and ogle those hot young girls you aren't going to get. Actually now that I think about it, I want you to work out an hour every day. Just think with all the dieting and exercise you might actually go home a better person.

So useless loser I know you are saying no no no that's not what I want...well bullshit this is your dream fantasy come true it is exactly what you want - to be totally controlled by a smoking hot babe like me - if you can come up with the green I will make it come true. Completely on my terms of course.

Empress Sara

Mistress,

I own a luxury timeshare in Naples, Florida and would like to invite you on an all expenses paid one week vacation from June 2 - 9. I can't give you any money for your time, but I will pay your airfare and you will stay in my condo for the week at no cost to you. You will truly be pampered and appreciated. Massages, fine dining, walks on the beach. Please abuse me and use me in private only. If you are interested, send me an email and I will send you my phone number, so that we may speak about this in more detail.

slave xxx

(photo attached)

# # # #

slave cheap cheap,

If you read my blogs or had even spent the money to call me 1x, you would know I only live 2 hours away from your luxury timeshare. Let me tell you what I know about luxury timeshares. This usually means a dishwasher, microwave and air conditioning. Sometimes a balcony. I know you probably sent this email to quite a few Flirts, who are no doubt cackling over your email, as if!

The slaves I have, again if you read my blogs, pay me for my time quite generously plus indulge me with massages and fine dining. I should become a Keen psychic, because as I gaze into my loser crystal ball, I picture you stooped over with your metal detector and headphones looking for loose change on the beach from June 2nd - 9th, ALONE!

Empress Sara

MATZO MATZO MAN

I brought a box of matzos and a jar of gefelte fish to fatfuck's session and told him I was putting him on the matzo, gefelte fish and water diet. I made him stuff matzos and gefelte wads in his fat face and yelled at him to tell me how much he weighed. He sheepishly admitted he didn't know, that he was too embarrassed and humiliated to step on the scale. I'm a walking heart attack I know, he cried. I told him, then if you have a heart attack you fatfuck, what will happen to me? He looked whipped at the moment and said he would do something and would let me know. I doubt I can be added to the will, as his jew shrew would combust if she knew a shiksa was on it, but I get the feeling that there will be a little cash stash left to me somewhere, in case the fatfuck's ticker stops.

After the matzo and gefelte splosh nosh, fatfuck actually begged to know if there was a kosher cock for him. And I had lined up the kosher cockboy, a cocktail server at the club where I also schlepp cocktails. At the pre-appointed time, there was a knock on the door and cockboy announced as he was told "Kosher Room Service". Aha the kosher cock is here! I said with a touch of evil and glee. Yes, I really said it that way dear blog reader, perhaps a little too theatrical of me, but why not put on a good show when you are getting well-paid? I had to pop out into the hallway and placed a scarf as a blindfold over cockboy's eyes, so he didn't get so turned off by seeing fatfuck? Nooooo, fatfuck is worried about privacy with the cockboy, in case they go to the same temple or other less-than-six degrees of separation concern.

Cockboy was a little nervous and it took some mandibular manipulations to get his dick hard, but it was a nice piece of kosher meat. The flamers at work were right about the jewboy being hung. I would say 8 - 8 1/2" with a nice, workable thickness. Fatfuck cock-gobbled and ate cum. Cockboy got $200 and as I de-scarved him in the hall, he said he'd be into doing it anytime and that he wanted to talk to me about how he could get a slave or two. There are flaming fagfuck losers in Miami area, and I'm sure cute little bi-cockboy might find some action here too.

Toad the Sweet Moneypot?

Toad, the real estate magnate, I say this facetiously, is selling a building lot next to his toad hole and a rental property. I wish I was as wicked and poisonous as a true financial Domina and had forced him to sell sell sell, but he was already planning this, I am just pushing him off the do-it-now cliff.

Plus he knows, in order to keep me, he has to pay to play. Otherwise I will go slave hunting for a more lucrative loser. Toad owns 4 rental properties and the building lot, in addition to his toad hole. And he plans to invest in a few foreclosed condos or multi-family properties, pick them up on the cheap, after these properties are sold.

I would 'lurv' to move into one of them until I am done with grad school and perhaps beyond, it will depend on my geography and employment situation. Toad does not want me to leave the area and to sweeten the moneypot, he told me he will pay for my final year of grad school. Also, he will pay me a consulting fee when he sells the lot. I would use this $ to pay down SallieMae (tuition)!

Toad will still have to pay for all the stuff he normally he has to pay for, like dates and errands and penalties and things. I've cut back the cocktail job to 2 - 3 nites a week and hope to be rid of it, but I always worry about the toad hopping away. I get the feeling that he'll someday wake up in his bed, wearing his CB2000 and realize that too mucho dinero has come my way, while all he has gotten is gayed, locked up and remains alone.