The Mystery and Dilemma of Disappearing Slaves

First the toad hops away, then Nicole loses josephine. Both were lost to pussies, yes they started dating! How dare they! Nicole's slave Abe the Jeweler went senile and his family now keeps him locked away. Slave idiot is off the puppet stage right now, sobbing over his Amex bill. This, after Nicole pulled his strings for more goodies. Then her slave known as poolboy was supposed to be in town the first week of May for biz and play and she's sure he did hit town, but didn't get in touch with her and is avoiding her. Fucker.

I can't even recount how many slaves I scared away, one with my strap-on who ran off to Boston, or claimed he did, and changed his cell phone number to 617 to reflect that he left SoFlo and hit Mass, but I guess cellular companies can assign different cell numbers with a Beyonce finger-snap, so I think he was just cloaking. Because Ember thought she saw him at the Sagamore, while he was supposed to be in Beantown.

And now fatfuck is supposed to have quadruple bypass surgery. He says I seem to be more concerned about him than his wife. Go figure that. She's probably counting the beans that will spill her way, if he doesn't make it after they crack open his chest like a lobster. Me, I'm counting the beans I would lose.... Anyway, Nicki is back in town soon, sometime at the end of this month. She wants to re-appropriate fatfuck from me, but it looks like he'll be out of ballkicking commission for a while.

My Funny Valentines

a review of some of the nice things I have received on Valentine's Day from my paramours, fucktoys, relatives and slaves

Marisol

When I was with Marisol a few years ago, she surprised me with a weekender to the Bahamas' Atlantis resort. We spent the weekend tanning, sexing and partying.

toad

I met toad in late January 2007, but got really sick with the flu immediately after meeting him. Coincidence? Still I needed to extract something from the toad for Valentine's while I suffered thru my flu. So I ordered him to go to the club where Nicole works and give her my Valentine's card (with something special tucked inside) for her to give to me. Nicole and I engineered a very humiliating scenario. Nicole would put toad on the guestlist as Mr. Toad. Toad would have to announce himself as Mr. Toad in order to get in. Depending on how many guys were waiting at the door to get in, plus the doorguy himself, toad would be sheerly overwhelmed and completely mortified to announce his slave name, but would have to state he was Mr. Toad to enter the Princess' castle. Then toad would have to sit in the club and wait for Nicole to be featured. He would then have to give her the card and a tip for her to deliver the card to me. While waiting for Nicole to be featured, he would have to order drinks and not look at any of the girls. In fact, he was to be looking down. And he could only look at Nicole's feet while handing over the tip and card.

It went something like this:

Toad arrived. Unfortunately, there was no one else but the doorguy at the moment toad showed up. He stated he was Mr. Toad. The doorguy had been instructed to fuck with toad so he asked toad how to spell it. T-o-a-d, toad spelled it. The doorguy checked it off and told toad, Hop on in! Priceless. The doorguy later told Nicole that toad looked like he was going to piss his pants, he was so nervous.

Nicole wasn't sure how long toad had to wait before she was featured, but she said she saw the fugly creature approach the rail with a red envelope and tip money. He stammered out, This is for Sara and this is for you. She grabbed both. Thank you TOAD! Nicole said quite loud. But the music in the club drowned out Nicole's words. She didn't think anyone else but the toad heard. The toad slunk away.

Nicole texted me when she got a break that she had the card and her tip. Toad tipped her $100 she texted. Not bad. She texted asking if I wanted her to open the envelope to check out my take. I texted back YES! She reported $200. Not as much as I had hoped, but I got pissed at him and got more out of him on a later date. Oh and the card was like really schmarmy and schmaltzy, something you would give to a woman in her 40's, so I berated toad for not picking out a Valentine's card I truly deserved.

Bride of Chuckie

Charlie was my cuckold boyfriend for about a year. For that year I didn't have to do Niteflirt or work at the club as he was paying my way. I concentrated on school and entertaining my cuckold. Nicole called Charlie "Cuckie Chuckie" and referred to me as "Bride of Chuckie" during this time. Nicole made out on the Cuckie Chuckie deal too, because if I had to study and couldn't play with my cuckie, Chuckie was allowed to go to the club and give money to Nicole for lap dances. Nicole made sure to humiliate him by telling him how small his dick was, or that it must be limp, or that I wasn't really studying, I was probably fucking Jesse or Arion or Tim or.... Cuckie Chuckie would then be so horny by the time he left the club, he would get to my place and fuck me till I couldn't see straight. Now you are wondering hmmmm I fucked my cuckie? Well Charlie was an unusual cuckie, he was 7.5" and thick. He was turned on by being a cuckie, but was not underhung. While he fucked me he craved having me tell him stories about the large cocks I was fucking, tell him he wasn't a real man, tell him he was inadequate....

Charlie was a romantic cuckie. I remember for Valentine's, he gave me roses, an expensive watch, lingerie, candy. Spring Break was right around V-Day, so he took me to Jamaica for the perfect cuckold vacay. All good things come to an end and Charlie went off to Malibu for rehab and while he has been back to the area a few times since, he has not been in touch with me or Nicole (to find me). But I'd love to have a financially rewarding cuckold relationship again!!!

Mom

One year my Mom gave me a vintage Valentine's candy box stuffed with her homemade rum and chocolate truffles. I couldn't resist and ate 2 truffles on my way home, while driving. My breath was really rummy and I was worried if I got pulled over, that I would fail a breathalyzer lol. But luckily I didn't get pulled over by the po-po's. My girlfriends and I used to host rotating dinners about once a month, a tradition we should revive. I was hosting the next girlfriends dinner at my house and served the truffles as part of dessert and everyone loved them and couldn't believe my Mom made them, they were candy store perfect and extremely potent ;-)

fatfuck

fatfuck is usually good for some extra cash and / or a little shopping spree. This week I did the spree and got 3 cute tops and a new pair of skinny jeans.

This year....

My sister is coming down on Valentine's Day with her boyfriend to go out with my Mom and her boyfriend and me and my sister's boyfriend's brother (I know it's confusing) to an early dinner before Jorge's band (Jorge = Mom's boyfriend) must perform that nite. So I'm wondering 1) if Danny will give me something for V-Day 2) if my Mom has made any more truffles 3) If any of my admirers (including you bloggies) will bestow me with tributes or something that shows your devotion (Amazon e-Gift Certificates, Victoria's Secret e-Gift Certificates)

toad

Everyone wants to know, what is up with the toad? He has been flaky lately. He doesn't want to stay locked up, which has been my primary modicum (haha) of control over the little runt. I have been using my spy, Senora, our shared cleaning lady, to suss out what has been going on at the toad abode. Senora reports that toad has been dating!!! Without my permission. Someone from work apparently. And not a dude! But a woman who looks like a dude. So he is still gay, I can breathe a sigh of relief. But bottom line is he just hasn't been a good toad lately, the $$$ tributes have been drying up. All slaves burn out eventually, it's been a year, a wild year for the toad. I lifted him out of loser obscurity and gave him a purpose in life, to worship me. I paid attention to his little weenis. I certified him as gay. I made family appearances, much to my displeasure, but hey they were paid gigs. Sometimes toad has been known to redeem himself at the last minute, sensing that I am pissed off and about ready to dismiss him. But I am tired of this hot / cold game with him, it makes me feel like he is topping from the bottom. I need to replace him.

I have a few prospects, including Hairball and Queereye, as possible replacements for my fading toad....

Hairball lives in St. Pete and is old enough to be my grandfather. He insists he just wants a pretty girl to take out to dinner when he makes his twice monthly jaunts to Miami to see a relative. And he wants to lick the kitty. But kitty-licking has to be earned. He claims he is not enslavable. He has not desire to submit. He complains he is tired of the golddiggers and sugar babies who have been trying to scheme him out of his money. Hmmmm what am I then?

Queereye is a fag-in-denial. He thinks he's straight, but any man who says to me that he is a stylish dresser and has a passion for interior decor, well, that dude's a FAG! I need to own him. I picture him naked with a dog collar crawling around at my feet. He won't even be permitted to talk, that would be too annoying. He would just have to whimper and beg. I will throw him those little doggie treats when he's been a good boy. You better believe he will have to eat them! {My sister and I used to make our step-brother Alex eat dog treats, so it would be fun to revisit one of my earliest humiliations.}

Hop on it toad!!!

Toad is in the market to buy 3 condos as soon as he sells his sandlot. We're not talking condos in the mega-mega price range, but condos which have tumbled from the 400's to the 300's or the 300's to the 200's. He is looking to assume mortgages and install renters. Memememe!!! I can rent one if he gives me a very reasonable rent. I want an ocean vu!! Well I can dream can't I....

"In housing markets across the country, the reassuring refrain goes a little something like this: At least it's not as bad as Miami. Nowhere has the real estate slowdown hit as hard as it has here. At the height of the boom, speculators gorged on condos, lining up for lotteries and flipping paper units. Then, in 2005, the market turned, and the buyers vanished.

But now the vultures are circling - almost literally.

Peter Zalewski's year-old firm, Condo Vultures, tracks units that stall on the market for more than 100 days and shed at least 10 percent or $100,000 in price. His database now lists more than 1,400 condos.

Zalewski recently let Fortune tag along as he sized up a vacant two-bedroom penthouse in a 35-story tower overlooking Biscayne Bay. With $10,000 in monthly costs, the seller - an investor who failed to flip - has already cut his price from $1.2 million to $849,000. Besides the hefty discount, the unit has one of Zalewski's favorite features: an unfinished concrete floor. "It tells you the seller is desperate," he says.

Desperation hangs in the air here - and analysts say today's market is only a prelude to a bigger glut. Nearly 8,000 units are on the way this year, with another 12,000 coming in 2008, says Jack McCabe of McCabe Research& Consulting in Deerfield Beach, Fla.

Bob Zimmel, a 55-year-old health-care exec in Bethlehem, Pa., and a Condo Vultures client, is one buyer who is willing to wait. "I think the market's still going to settle out in the next 18 months," he says. If you can't wait that long, consider leasing in the meantime. The owners of a similar empty penthouse in the Biscayne Bay tower are looking to rent - so badly that they've dropped their monthly price from $4,500 to $2,800."

Starfish Hunting

I am in the throes of reeling in a new RT slave. No nickname for him yet, but as soon as I do, he will join the infamous toad and fatfuck. So far I've done dinner twice with newslave and plan to punish him next week after I do fatfuck. A Wednesday matinee double feature. Unlike my other slaves, this slave is quasi-cute, and someone who I don't feel so uncool to be seen with. His thing is CBT which I told him my experience has been trampling, ball-kicking and other painful ministrations I inflict on fatfuck. Gods of Miami, I truly want to give up the grab-ass cocktailing and exploit my bevy of slaves. Plus I am getting the funny feeling that toad is nearing his expiration date. Though perhaps he just wants to go back to wacking off to pics of his sister in a bikini.

Newslave also wants to lick my ass and puss-puss. But I must keep stringing him along on this as I've been advised that the fantasy, the power of the fantasy of doing this will be greater than actually doing it. Once he licks my ass a few times, not that my ass isn't fine, sweet, and ultra-lickable, but once the hunt is over, he will get bored and move onto the next little puckered starfish.

Should I or shouldn't I....

A friend came up with some evil ideas as to what I should do to the toad. Email me with yays or nays!

Sara - here are some new ideas.

I think you need to have a serious conversation with the Toad. Tell him that his coming up with the additional $7K to fully cover your tuition is a serious commitment on his part and you want to ensure that he is properly rewarded. Tell him that you have decided that if he comes through that you will allow him a sex act with you that he never dreamed would be allowed. Yes he can put "his" cock in your pussy and fuck you until you have an orgasm. After that you will give him your pussy and with your permission, he can fuck it as much as he wants. A dream come true for a little toad. I can't recall what the big event is that will lead to the availability for the next $7K but continue to play this up until then. Toad, I'll bet you can't stop thinking about actually putting your cock in my pussy.
Meanwhile borrow his credit card and order three items.

#1 A face dildo harness that allows a dildo to be inserted and strapped to a persons head, jutting out from approximately the area of the mouth.
#2 Pick what you consider to be the perfect dildo that you would like to be used on you, preferably one that also vibrates and will fit the harness in #1.
These first two are very common and easy to find.
#3 Is an artificial pussy. I've seen them before and they look like a round cylinder, sort of the shape of a thermos only larger in diameter. The outside is solid plastic and the inside has folds of soft plastic. Basically you lube up and fuck the thing like a real pussy. It has a "tightness" control and a vibrator control.

[I have to do a side bar - since you are probably thinking how could I be so pathetic to have such a thing as #3. While I did have one and have tried it. It is an interesting story of how it came into my possession. My brother and I bought a house together. I moved out to live with my girlfriend at the time and he got a roommate. A guy named Tim. Tim had credit problems and had actually served time in prison for credit related fraud, but this was unbeknownst to us at the time. He was the perfect tenant while my brother was around. Then my brother had extended work-related travel and left the until now perfect tenant Tim in place. What we did not know is that Tim had been working to steal my brother's identity. What we found out later is that the guy had a crack problem which he somehow kept under control. As soon as my brother left he reverted to bad habits of the past, used up all my brother's credit to go on a huge crack binge. So after no rent for several months and lots of phone calls, I take my 2 German Shephards and go to the house. Tim hasn't been seen in weeks. The house is full of about 6 crackhead types. Apparently when in prison Tim had acquired a taste for getting fucked in the ass. Two of the girls there were semi prostitutues who basically were hanging around, topping Tim and fucking him in the ass 3-4 times a day in return for a steady supply of crack he financed though my brother's credit. Well I used the dogs and chased them all out of there. Over the next few weeks all kinds of kinky sex toys came in the mail, not to mention quite a collection of dildos and strap on equipment. One day the fake pussy showed up also ordered by Tim in my brother's name. I've always thought this toy had some promise for Dom/sub play sort of like humiliating a guy by making him fuck a love doll.]

So back to Toad. On the big night you have Toad over, the $7K check in hand. He should still be in his CB3000 or whatever you are using. Nicely wrapped is a gift you have for him. You talk up about how he is finally going to get to fuck your with "his cock". I would cuff his hands behind his back and put him on his knees before you. If he protests you make it clear that while you might let his cock in your pussy you aren't giving up all control.

You give him the gift and have to open it for him. Of course it is the dildo and the harness. She Toad you now own a cock that is worthy of fucking me. You didn't really think I'd let that joke down below in me did you? That little cocktail weenie?

Now that you own this beautiful cock I've just given you, it is time for your reward, lets see if you can fuck me. Of course you put it on him and he gets a big treat of fucking you with that cock. I've done this several times and it really is a lot of fun (one girl played with her clit while I fucked her - her hips came about three feet off the bed she came so hard, quite a hot time!!) so while he will be crestfallen if he really believed you would actually allow his real cock to fuck you, it actually is a treat and fun to fuck a girl with one of these. It may take him awhile to really get the hang of it so be sure to humilate him, slap his face hard as you figure out how you best want him to use that thing on you. For $7K, that's quite a bit of devotion, I think you ought to cum for him. When you've had your pleasure you can of course thank him so much for fucking you with "his" big beautiful cock. Make it seem like this is the natural order of things, which it is for him.

Well then didn't you promise him he would get to fuck "your" pussy. Remind him of that. Unlock his chastity belt but keep his wrists cuffed. Somewhere in the room there should be one more present all wrapped up. Have him crawl over on his knees and pick it up by the ribbon with your teeth. "Oh Toad you shouldn't have, a gift for me?"

Of course inside is the artificial pussy. Isn't he a lucky Toad to get to fuck it? Since he gave it to you it is indeed "your pussy". I suggest the following. He damn well better have an erection. Sit back in a comfortable carm hair or couch. Position the fake pussy between the tops of your caves with the back pushing against the chair and you can angle it to meet the height of his dick and for you lean back to watch. For him he can come forward on his knees. Drip lots of lube on his cock and on the fake pussy. Have him stay vertical and allow him to walk his cock into that pussy and start fucking it. Of course if he leans forward slap his face and making him stay vertical. This is a great position since you can verbal abuse and slap his face while he finally gets to fuck "your pussy". Be very impatient and demanding, threaten to stop it and lock it back up if he doesn't come quickly etc.
After he comes have him lay on the floor below you. Take the fake pussy and have him lick up and swallow any of the mess he made in it. After all he does need to get used to the taste of cum doesn't he....

Lucky Number 7

A check for 7 large went toward my tuition for next semester courtesy of the toad. Toad sold one of his investments properties and bestowed this upon me. I was a bundle of nerves earlier in the week, not eating, not knowing if toad would come thru on his promise or if he would disappear into his toad hole, never to be seen again. I began the hunt for my 3rd stooge, worrying if I lost the toad, what I would do financially.

As a reward for the little toad, I told him I'd have a surprise for him. I think he had no idea what this might be: swapping saliva, dry humping, seeing my breasts, cuntlapping? I think the toad brain began to fritz in anticipation. The reward? I dildo'd myself in front of him, to screaming orgasm. I integrated some gay training into this dildo show, by making toad pick a cock pic for me to thrust by, and he did pick a huge cock pic to which I announced, oh yummy, I'm getting wet now, before I slid in my 8" fatboy.

I thought the little toad would faint, but somehow he managed to stay seated on the little chair I made him perch upon. When I was dil-done, I refused an unlocking, telling him my uber-hummer had exhausted me, wiped me out, now we needed to go out and get me something to eat. I promised the toad an unlocking the next nite.

I worked at the club on Friday nite and had toad pay a little visit to fetch my car keys and his dickie cage key. First he had to fuel up my car, and clean it out. I usually leave a pair of scented panties somewhere for the toad to find and sniff. Did I mention that he also had to jerk to a gay men's magazine I made him pick up and do the deed in his car? But I don't think his auto-eroticism (pun intended) was successful, although he claimed it was. I've come to know the toad, and I believe he was lying. But Nicole also pointed out later, a potential flaw with my plan, he could have jerked off in my car! Ewwwww. I should have only given him my car keys first, then had him return those before collecting his dick-key.

Toad also requested an additional unlocking on Saturday after cleaning my apartment, so I knew and confronted him that he had lied, and he finally admitted it was true, but didn't want to be punished. How much can a dominant bitch let slide re: a wimp slave's transgressions? He had just essentially given me seven thousand dollars. I pondered, should I let it go, but warn him of the consequences next time? Or should I keep it locked for a long period as punishment and to exert my control. Or should I unlock it and yell at him, what's the point toad if you won't be honest? I chose the latter, and made him beg for it to be locked up again. Slaves do crave their confinement, it becomes a little plastic web of security, of attachment to their Mistress. So the toad is safely locked again, and even hornier, and looking to do anything to get back in my good graces.

A Brief History of the toad

Everyone who has landed on my blog wants to know: Is toad your slave or your boyfriend? Popping into my blog midstream can lead to confusion. So let me make this 'crystallee' clear! Toad is a slave. I advertised for a slave on craigslist back in January and the toad hopped into my life. The toad is a 40 year old loser, who hasn't had a girlfriend in 8 years, and brief that relationship was, a matter of weeks. Before that, toad hadn't dated since college. He claims that, over the years, his family has tried to fix him up with desperate divorcees or unattractive, even fat Cuban women in hopes that they will snare the toad. But the toad can only be enticed by very pretty girls, who know how to use him for their financial gain.

But the most financial gain is realized from toad no longer wanting his family, friends or co-workers to think he is a fag or a loser. And he realizes that he'd have to pay, in an alternate reality, if he did have a real girlfriend. So why not cut out the pure bullshit, the awkward romance? And so for special appearance fees, I date him or attend a gallery opening, a film festival, or a family wedding, etc., to give the aura that the toad has a girlfriend. His private slave duties include cleaning my apartment, doing my laundry, fueling up my car, running errands.

His family are, of course, in disbelief. It would be easier to believe, if I were ugly or fat or older. But for him to be dating someone so much younger, and pretty, does not seem possible. They probably think I'm a hooker he has hired. Well, hired yes, hooker no. Wait, I am a hooker! I hooked toad.

A Sleepover at the Toad Hole

I went out clubbing Saturday nite w/ friends. I was amped to get out, I've been working or slavetrading too much lately. I need to balance that out, but not go overboard as has been my weakness in the past. At the end of the nite, I made my way to the toad abode for a sleepover, for which I was paid $500 to sleep in the same place, but not the same bed, and to be there in the background while the toad called his mother at 8am to inquire about brunch after mass, during which call I asked if toad had seen my birth control pills. "Momentito" -- "I think you left them in the bathroom". Mission accomplished. Mama Toad now has positive 'confirmation' that we sleep together and that I'm on the pill. And that I'm a sinful Catholic girl.

Toads are from Holes

Nicole was swinging around a pole stuffing the green into her g-string on Thursday nite, so she didn't catch up with me till Friday about the lameness of toad's list. But she didn't think I could have expected more from the little toad. Nicole: It is too much for a little toad brain. Even 4 things were probably really scary for him. But I do think he wanted you to read the list at dinner, because...maybe he wanted to do one of them that nite, maybe he came to dinner with a cash hard-on!

And you know, Nicole may be right. Maybe he wanted a kiss or to see my breasts quickly in the car or something. Or maybe he just thought his list was perfect, that I would love it and blow him a kiss and tell him on May 31st all of his dreams can come true. I don't know.

But he also told me as he was cleaning my apartment earlier today, that he was going to buy some 'relationship' books and read them so he could be better to me. He felt awful for overlooking our anniversary and for his list being rejected. Hmmmm, I don't want him wasting so much time reading when he can be doing more beneficial things with his time, as in beneficial to me, plus he might discover, in these relationship books, that we don't have a 'relationship' at all. But there was one book my sister thought of, one and only one book that I demand he read, an older book called: Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. Because she said, the book was more about communication between men and women and expectations that women have of men blablabla. That the book will only confuse the toad, it's from the 90's, it's outdated, with his toad brain capacity, he probably won't finish it, but at least he will be more confused about relationships than ever!

The toad List

Giving toad an assignment...either he hops on it right away (hehe 'hops') or it takes him forever because he anguishes over it and complains till I lose my temper and yell at him. Maybe he likes it that way. Maybe the negative attention, my awareness and contempt of his procrastination is some kind of toad turn-on.

In any case, the assignment he had been 'dilly-dallying' with, my one grandmother used to love that saying, was to make a list of things toad would like to experience with me, with the dollar offer of how much he'd be willing to pay to make each of them happen. These indulgences were supposed to be actualized when his rental property went to settlement, meaning that he'd have a larger amount of disposable cash to play with then.

He gave me his list, in an envelope no less, over dinner on Thursday nite, a dinner for which he was paying for my presence. I do have to add that when I go out to dinner with the toad, I spend a lot of toad's money: appetizer, salad, entree, dessert, libation sensations, coffee, etc. But as you can tell from my size 0 - size 2 body, I tend to pick at my food. Nevertheless, I like choices to 'pick at'. For extra humiliation, I make the server doggie-box my scraps and give them to toad to take home. I tell him he must eat everything at lunch the next day, not to let the food go to waste, that if I ever catch him throwing anything out, he will be in toad trouble.

He promises he does. But I've never checked.

So he gives me the envelope with his list inside and asks: Aren't you going to look at it. Not now, I tell him. Later, when I have time.

So I collect my $100 dinner date appearance fee and jet. Call around to frends to see if anyone is out. I want to read the toad list, but I don't want to read it alone. Where are your friends when you desperately need them?

I don't reach anyone live, so I pull over in a supermercado parking lot to review the list and whaaaaa????? the fuck??????

His list consists of this:

1. Kiss you $300

2. Kiss your pussy $500

3. Sleep in same bed all night, no sex $500 (sorry if I snore)

4. See your breasts $200

I want to tear up this fricking list. I am so fuming mad. I am dialing out on my cell to reach the fucking squished blenderized toad twat when I see my sister's number is trying to ring thru.

She knew the list was in process, so I tell her I finally have the list and that it sucks the lameness cock beyond belief. She says, why are you so surpised? It's the toad. I tell her: First, he only has 4 things, only 4? And he is cheap on everything. And how can he even think I would ever sleep in the same zip code as him for the whole nite....

My sister laughs as I read the list. Well you just need to mark it up and give it back to him. My sister is right. I need a red sharpie marker! Luckily, the supermercado has a little office supply section, and I find a red sharpie as I continue to chat with my sister about everything that sisters chat about, including what I am going to do with the toad.

1. Kiss you -- I tell her my evil plan. It is really a suggestion from another friend who said to just spit in his mouth as our first kiss. And tell him that's all any man is left with after a kiss, so enjoy it. And also castigate him for the low price, that I am insulted, so a spit-kiss is all he gets.

2. Kiss my pussy -- With toad, one can never be sure if he means just a kiss or to lick me till I squirm and fake an orgasm, so I will just assume he means 'kiss' for this price, and maybe I should squirt some piss on him as he kisses it, telling him that's what happens when I get excited

3. Tell him there is no way I can sleep near a snoring troll who will ruin my beauty sleep. He can sleep on his sofa downstairs and I will sleep in the guest room and I will lock the door and break out my earplugs. This may not be a bad thing, because hopefully I can engineer that his mother or sister will see my car there in the morning somehow, to think that toad and I actually spend nites together. I will make him take me on a 'date' before the sleepover, so I'll get $ from the date too.

4. See my breasts. My sister said for that price he can either see a pic or see them for like 2 seconds. I said that if I give him a pic he will amuse himself with it or wank to it when he's unlocked and I don't want him to have such wankable material. The only pics he has of me are totally g-rated.

Also, I must tell him he is so pathetic, he must come up with more ideas or else. So I put the marked up list back in the torn envelope and tape it back shut and mark it PERSONAL. I drop it at his office the next day with the receptionist and ask if she can make sure he gets it. Who cares what she thinks it is or if she holds it up to the halogen light on her desk and tries to reach thru the envelope and can read my redlining and corrections.

Toad calls me in a few minutes and sounds very upset. I'm so sorry, he keeps saying. I tell him: You're goddamn lucky I didn't read your pathetic list in the restaurant, because I would have slapped you right then and there. Not only is your list a piece of shit, it is that lame, toad, but you completely forgot our anniversary! Anniversary, he asks?

Yes, we have been dating for 3 months!!!! Now I didn't do the math, it could be more that 3 months, but I was waiting for the right moment to spring him with yet another relationship sin.

MASTERbaterCARD

In toad's illusion of reality, I had broken up with him since he wasn't defending our 'love' and was letting The Witches interfere with our 'relationship'. Since toad had never been in a relationship, the silence a/k/a the break-up had to be devastating. Toad also knew my pussy was turbo-cized and that I was riding cock. He was probably questioning what I needed him for, if anything.

I wasn't answering toad's calls. If I felt like it, I would text him short, snippy, bitchy texts: Bizzzzy notime2talk -or- Have u fixed things w/M&M (toad's Mom and sister Mercedes). Toad's response to the latter: It isnt that easy. My response: guess u dont care @ our love. Sometimes I would ignore his texts, letting him stew.

I especially wasn't letting him unlock his dickie cage. When he came to clean my apartment, do laundry, etc., on Saturday, I made sure I wasn't home. All he could look at was pix of me on his cell phone screen and sniff my panties (surely the little toad does the sniffy-sniffy). My apartment was spotless and toadless when I returned. I didn't say anything about his toadly cleaning performance, I called and said abruptly that he had to fix 'it', at least with his Mother, on Mother's Day or else. He promised he would, and sounded like he might cry. I hung up. I can't stand when wimps cry.

Toad's rental property is going to settlement at the end of the month and toad has promised me tuition money. So the high of making up with me must be orchestrated, so I can maximize my take from the toad. I think the toad would have done A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G to get me back. But there would have to be a price for making up. And the price? Make toad give me a credit card. "For emergencies" would be the justification.

I 'Mother's Dayed' with my Mom and called toad when I got home. He assured me that everything was OK with Mama Toad. Are you sure? Yes, I'm sure. Are you really sure? Yes, I'm sure.

The timing couldn't have been better. Tropical Storm Andrea, the first tropical storm of the season had already made an appearance, and with a 'bad' hurricane season expected, I immediately dismissed the Mama Toad situation as if it were a fly that had been swatted in favor of conversing about the weather -or- the price of making up.

To snare the little toad, I confessed my hurricane horror stories: evacuation with my cats, clothes and computer stuffed in my car, running out of gas trying to get north to my sister's in Orlando. But most dramatic was how my Mom, sister and I had lost our home in Hurricane Andrew when I was 9 and that I still have nightmares about how the house peeled away around us while we were huddled in a closet. Everything is true, but I maximized it for the toad. I wanted him to feel responsible if anything like that were to happen to me again.

And so I told the toad 'we' needed to have a credit card together. That it would mean 'we' were 'involved', that our tenuous relationship was now superglued by MasterBATERCard. And I would have something I could use in case of emergency. Toad agreed, but he would have agreed to a hot poker being shoved up his peener if everything could be dialed back to the way it was. So the toad hopped over Monday during lunch hour and while I listened impatiently, toad called one of his credit card companies and ordered an extra card for me. I have no idea what the credit line is, but I shall call the # when the card arrives, to find out. I let him unlock and do his thing in the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet and flushing away the worthless spume. I didn't even watch, I couldn't be bothered.

The G-SPOT UPDATE



Imagine Dr. fatfuck's surprise, when the mystery friend who was to get her G-spot plumped along with mine, turned out to be Nicki. I thought fatfuck was going to pass out, his guess was that G-spot #2 was going to be Nicole's, who he had encountered when she joined me on a few 2-girl punishment sessions. We spanked fatfuck and paraded around in black stockings and heels, trampling his turkey gobbler parts. Anyway, back to our G-spots, which really do look like raspberries.... Fatfuck melted in Nicki's presence, it was nauseating. All he could talk about was how he was so busy injecting G's and doing Botox and other facial pricking that he had to hire another physician. So this will mean you'll have more time to see Sara, Nicki noted. Oh, uh, oh, yes, he said, knowing that he was now painted into a corner.

I don't know what was worse, the anesthetic needle or the Restylane. After the anesthetic wore off, it felt like a snake had bitten the inside of my pussy. But my G did feel magically engorged, as if I had just been fucked, and the friction had made my G-spot more pronounced. But I didn't feel like humping yet, I was too sore. Fatfuck said to give it 24 hours. I was definitely planning on at least that, based on my discomfort. I had Jesse, my stud cock, on 'fucking' alert.

After our injections, fatfuck said the occasion deserved a drink, so we headed to a martini bar, fatfuck downed 2 doubles to our 1, which wasn't surprising, given his weight, he probably needed more alcohol to feel a happy hour buzz. My sister was taking my Mom out to dinner and I was due at the club in a few hours, ugh. I felt like calling in sick, but I knew the club had been busy lately, and that I should go to work at the very least, and then pretend like I had the worst cramps ever. Since my boss is gay and Jewish, he hates hearing about periods, all you have to do is talk about cramps and gushing red geysers, he will get all grossed out and send you home. Something like: "The unclean women shall not touch the food or drink!"

Nicki had moved in with her fiance, and was now 3.5 hours away, and with SoFLA traffic being what it is, more like 4, so I didn't get to see her as much as when she was in Boca. Nicki remembered how to pluck! Haha, she lifted fatfuck's wallet and took some cash, "to pay for my gas and for dinner with Mom". "Oh yes, yes," fatfuck agreed. "It is so good to see both of you, I wish we could do this again." Nicki said, "for a price and a shopping spree". The stores weren't the same up around her new place. He said to text him and let him know, Wednesdays were still the best day to get together.

Nicki had gotten stuck in Friday traffic getting down to Miami and didn't get a chance to do a panty check on the toad. She did call him though and told him to grow some balls and be the man in his family and stop letting the witches rule over his love life. He agreed, but what else could he do, but agree? I could picture him in his office, a little bobble head toad, bobbing his head up and down in agreement, but later, utterly helpless in the presence of the powerful coven, Mama Toad, Mercedes the evil sister and Tia Maria <---- if they plied her with bebidos. I had blamed my need for a G-spot injection on toad's wimpiness destroying my libido. He knew I was going to be sexing it up, and I think it was making him feel the most inferior he had felt in my presence or absence, locked up, in panties, while I was cavorting with cockmaster Jesse. While I was so far successful in focusing the toad on his gayness, cuckoldry did not seem to appeal to him at all. I think toad was holding on to the delusion that he really was my boyfriend, and that our perfect relationship involved neither of us having sex.

So, dear reader, I leave you with a pic of Jesse. Finals are cumming up, so I will not be blogging as much till they are over.

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.

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.

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.