Dandyland Diaries Read Online Free
Author: D.M. Dewey
much, Goddess,” he said sadly. “I would like to be allowed to get off the phone now, please.”
“You can’t help but be a loser, slut.” I comforted him. “It's in your DNA. Write me a letter of apology and I will consider another chance.”
“I’m too embarrassed to face you.” He groaned.
“Y ou should be.” And with that, I hung up.
Damn it! What an asshole! I was so fucking pissed at myself and at him. What kind of gullible idiot am I for believing such a story? What is wrong with me? What is wrong with him? But I just so wanted to believe tha t there was a well-trained slave out there that wanted a new owner to serve. It was so hot! It was exactly right up my alley! Okay, I’ve got to be smarter next time, but something inside me still wanted to beat his dick.
The next day, as I was bottling li quid health at my juicing job, he sent me a text claiming how horrified he felt when he was found out and that he applauded me on how I broke the news to him. On the verge of orgasm was always a good time to humiliate someone. I was glad he appreciated my workmanship. I let him know that I would still consider having him come serve, against my better judgment.
We continued to chat via text. I had a bad habit of just texting, “ Slut,” to him at any given moment of the day. It drove him crazy because he was afraid someone from work would see it and he would be outed as the little freak that he was. He was very paranoid. So finally, after lots of back and forth, we decided on a date. Saturday. Two days away.
I had gone a little hog wild with purchasing some key items for my dungeon/apartment: under the bed restraints, a leather mask, sounding rods, chastity device, a crop, lots of rope, vibrators, nipple clamps, clothespins, a pinwheel (not the fun pretty ones, an actual pinwheel), and lube. I felt very prepared for my first encounter with a lying loser slut. I had even gone as far as to read a book about domination sessions, sort of the Domination for Dummies if you will, and had been studying other Dommes in videos online, my favorite being Mistress Gemini. God, she was a bitch but pretty funny at the same time. I could tell she had a good sense of humor about what she did.
I know… right about now you’re wondering what the hell this all has to do with Gavin. I am a strong believer that everything happens for a r eason and all things happen in due time. At this point, though, I was convinced I would never hear from him again, and I tend to have a strong “moving on” mindset when it comes to men and romance.
So Saturday arrived as Saturdays always do. I was ready. H e was to arrive at 2:00 p.m. exactly. My little place was all ready and organized. I lived in a cottage that had been gutted of its tiny rooms and replaced by one high vaulted area with a bedroom nook. It was small, but it had a nice patio that was completely private and lots of French windows that let in the California sunshine. It was mine and it made me happy.
I wore my Domina costume, which entailed six-inch black patent leather stilettoes, fishnet stockings, garter belt, bustier bra, and a sort of lon g black Kimono-type robe left open at the waist. I had paid very close detail to my makeup, making sure it was evil in its severity: dark extended eyebrows, catlike liquid eyeliner, blood-red lips, and pale powder. My hair was piled on top of my head in a tall topknot. I wanted to make sure he felt very small in my presence. He was short, if you remember, just 5’8,” and that probably meant closer to 5’6”. After all, he was a bona fide fucking loser liar. (Evil grin) AND (a snicker).
So here is where I had a stroke of genius. I don’t even know where it came from. Suddenly, I knew exactly the way I wanted all subs to enter my place from this moment on. I wanted to make sure they knew who was in control right from the moment they showed up. I wanted them uneasy. Scared. Nervous. I told Sam to come wearing his butt plug, and
“You can’t help but be a loser, slut.” I comforted him. “It's in your DNA. Write me a letter of apology and I will consider another chance.”
“I’m too embarrassed to face you.” He groaned.
“Y ou should be.” And with that, I hung up.
Damn it! What an asshole! I was so fucking pissed at myself and at him. What kind of gullible idiot am I for believing such a story? What is wrong with me? What is wrong with him? But I just so wanted to believe tha t there was a well-trained slave out there that wanted a new owner to serve. It was so hot! It was exactly right up my alley! Okay, I’ve got to be smarter next time, but something inside me still wanted to beat his dick.
The next day, as I was bottling li quid health at my juicing job, he sent me a text claiming how horrified he felt when he was found out and that he applauded me on how I broke the news to him. On the verge of orgasm was always a good time to humiliate someone. I was glad he appreciated my workmanship. I let him know that I would still consider having him come serve, against my better judgment.
We continued to chat via text. I had a bad habit of just texting, “ Slut,” to him at any given moment of the day. It drove him crazy because he was afraid someone from work would see it and he would be outed as the little freak that he was. He was very paranoid. So finally, after lots of back and forth, we decided on a date. Saturday. Two days away.
I had gone a little hog wild with purchasing some key items for my dungeon/apartment: under the bed restraints, a leather mask, sounding rods, chastity device, a crop, lots of rope, vibrators, nipple clamps, clothespins, a pinwheel (not the fun pretty ones, an actual pinwheel), and lube. I felt very prepared for my first encounter with a lying loser slut. I had even gone as far as to read a book about domination sessions, sort of the Domination for Dummies if you will, and had been studying other Dommes in videos online, my favorite being Mistress Gemini. God, she was a bitch but pretty funny at the same time. I could tell she had a good sense of humor about what she did.
I know… right about now you’re wondering what the hell this all has to do with Gavin. I am a strong believer that everything happens for a r eason and all things happen in due time. At this point, though, I was convinced I would never hear from him again, and I tend to have a strong “moving on” mindset when it comes to men and romance.
So Saturday arrived as Saturdays always do. I was ready. H e was to arrive at 2:00 p.m. exactly. My little place was all ready and organized. I lived in a cottage that had been gutted of its tiny rooms and replaced by one high vaulted area with a bedroom nook. It was small, but it had a nice patio that was completely private and lots of French windows that let in the California sunshine. It was mine and it made me happy.
I wore my Domina costume, which entailed six-inch black patent leather stilettoes, fishnet stockings, garter belt, bustier bra, and a sort of lon g black Kimono-type robe left open at the waist. I had paid very close detail to my makeup, making sure it was evil in its severity: dark extended eyebrows, catlike liquid eyeliner, blood-red lips, and pale powder. My hair was piled on top of my head in a tall topknot. I wanted to make sure he felt very small in my presence. He was short, if you remember, just 5’8,” and that probably meant closer to 5’6”. After all, he was a bona fide fucking loser liar. (Evil grin) AND (a snicker).
So here is where I had a stroke of genius. I don’t even know where it came from. Suddenly, I knew exactly the way I wanted all subs to enter my place from this moment on. I wanted to make sure they knew who was in control right from the moment they showed up. I wanted them uneasy. Scared. Nervous. I told Sam to come wearing his butt plug, and
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