An innocent Twitter chat

Even after years of chatting with little perverts of all kinds, it still amazes me when they say something like: “OMG how can you know that?”. Suddenly their heart start beating 10 times faster (or more) as they realise I can read in them like in an open book. They get scared, they get hard and usually they become really needy and as they melt (or shake, call it what you want), they start showing me even more their secret soul without even noticing it. People usually believe you can only know someone according to the words they write or say and this is really not true. Words, for sure, give you a lot of information but what’s behind those words tells you even more. The silences or the the speed of writing mean for example as much as the real meaning of the words. The typos, the mistakes, the chosen words, the punctuation means sometimes more than just the words, but most of the people I guess don’t really pay attention to those really tiny details. Sadly (or fortunately) for those weak little boys who contact me on my social media accounts, I'm not one of those persons. I notice those details. I notice everything, even what they try to hide, usually in a real pathetic way.

Some for example come to chat… yes, that’s what they say, to “chat” and they don’t even imagine for a second the signs they are sending me over and over. Their words indeed say: let’s chat, but all the rest, behind their words, they are constantly saying: “Oh Mistress, please, I beg you, use me, rip me apart” and in general I just smile behind my computer thinking: “one more”. I guess I will be already rich each I get £1 for each guy doing this.

In general I don’t really pay attention to them. Only when I’m a bit bored in that moment I replay but in general I just ignore them really fast. They are just weak hard guys dreaming to be used but not ready to start something and really become a toy. All they want is a 5 minutes thrill to stroke and get their immediate pleasure. Men tend to be like that. 5 minutes and that’s it (sometimes 5 minutes it’s already too long for them yes). Their cock make them weak and they need an immediate release so they go online and start contacting Mistresses like me, most of the time thinking they can trick us and get their 5 mins stroke for free by promising to be amazing subs or whatever. But sometimes, there are some little perverts who have something different. They are not more intelligent, they are not rich or handsome or anything. They are just genuinely pathetic and that makes them cute… at least for me.

Some months ago, one of those cute ones sent me a message on Twitter after I exposed an idiot who manage to upset me on FetLife. He started the conversation with one of those pathetic and boring messages guys tend to send. Then, he wrote about that guy I just exposed inquiring about his misbehaviour. After just 2-3 messages I felt his weakness and how vulnerable he was. He was writing to me in a nervous way. Friendly and genuinely honest but at the same time, like hiding his condition and his arousal. It was a guy speaking with a girl online. A weak and insecure guy speaking to the girl of his dreams, the one he will never dare to approach in a bar or anywhere in real, but online, oh yes, online, he was brave even if he was scared because she was too beautiful, because she was a dream, a dominant woman capable of ruining the life of someone. He was secretly dreaming to be used by her but he was unable to ask or perhaps, he was even scared to really desire it consciously.

Little by little he was feeling weaker. Little by little he was dreaming more and more and it was crystal clear for me what he wanted. Was he really impress my my wickedness, or was he just too weak and my words were just making him hard … ok, harder? During that first conversation I was a bit unsure about the answer to my question but I became intrigued and wanted to know how far will he go before kneeling and beg me to use him. We were chatting in a friendly and almost innocent way. He was curious about my games and about my views on his kinks and I was curious to see how long it will take until he falls into the usual online subs pattern.

The little boy was too shy (or scared) and he was not following his co-perverts wimp attitudes. He was somehow cute as he was doing his best to resist until we really started speaking about blackmail and I gave him an example of what I consider is a proper blackmail. I told him my views about that kink and then asked him if he ever watched Black Mirror. His answer was so weak …

“OMG yes, I know. The blackmail episode is amazing!”. He was shaking, he was doomed. His worst nightmare and biggest dream was just there, in front of him. He started remembering that crazy episode feeling probably his heart beating faster and faster imagining himself there, being blackmailed by a woman, by that gorgeous woman he was speaking with on twitter.

I was not really paying attention to his words anymore, I was just feeling his heart and breath while smiling knowing he was already trapped. I knew by then he was mine if I wanted. He was somehow amusing with his kind of innocence and chatting and chatting, trapping himself even more in my psychological web. Yes, all by himself he was doing all the work while I was only pushing him sometimes a bit with a small wink or a double sense sentence.

Of course, it was too easy to just trap him there and use him as he was already dreaming. It would have been too simple or boring to go on his direction just like that. Instead, I wanted to make him suffer a bit. Make him dream more, make him imagine what it will be to serve that amazing blond Goddess. I wanted him to do all the job just to fuck his brain and have him there, helpless, begging to be mine, but not in a normal way. I wanted him to feel a real thrill and break him from the beginning instead of simply use him or make him pay.

Little by little he was trapping himself. Little by little he was more excited and eager to be destroyed so I was just pushing him on that slippery slope just under his feet until he was perfectly ripe. Using the information I got by using his PayPal payment, I asked a very innocent question who made his heart stop. He probably felt his world collapsing and at the same time a powerful adrenaline rush when I asked about the company he was previously working for. My question was apparently innocent and genuine but the sentence had a different meaning and I knew he will feel it. “Who can she know that?”

When you play with fire you can end burning yourself, sometimes really badly and he felt that vividly. It was the beginning of his nightmare. It was a dream who scared him like hell but hey, don’t play with the devil if you are scared to end in hell right?

My poor little boy started to know what the word BLACKMAIL really means. He dreamt with it and he found himself suddenly dragged into a real and non-consensual blackmail knowing the woman trapping him only likes wild and total blackmails when victims have no place to hide and no way to escape. His words started to shake and his weakness was even more evident. As usual in this kind of situations, he did what all the little perverts do: Give me more information without even know. His fear simply opened for me his life and all I had to do was to pick the best elements to use against him and then squeeze his heart to make him hard and break him.

Little by little I started writing a detail about him just to scare him, like suddenly stabbing him with a long and thin needle. He was clearly really hard, unable to think clearly or to resist. He was filling sucked into a living and yet delicious nightmare but he was unable to realise what was happening until, some days later, I gave him the order to change his twitter bio to write he was mine. I knew he was a pervert “serving” lots of dommes and I knew he was a little chicken. My command was mean as I knew very well he will try to resist and make me give him a different task. What he didn’t know was how much I wanted to make him fail and disobey just to give me the perfect excuse to break him and show him what the word blackmail really means.

Of course, he fail as expected. He didn’t changed his twitter bio and he didn’t granted me his Facebook access as I requested. He begged of course, he invented stupid excuse trying to make me change my mind and then, he rebel. Oh yes, that little thing dared to oppose my command. Just like that, trying to be brave, perhaps thinking I was like all the other dommes, obsessed with money and ready to do everything to keep getting tributes. He was thinking he could have the upper hand but soon, he was forced to face the reality. I wasn’t joking. I will not change my mind and he was really in danger.

By then I already had a lot on him. Not only our explicit conversations where he was confessing all his perversions and the fact he was hiding from his wife for years. I also had his personal details, his home address, his professional life, pictures and … payments. All that stored in a nice little file on my computer called: Vincent-Twitter. A file with at least 50 documents all showing his kinks and his “illicit behaviour”. By then, he was still thinking he had a kind of will or even some control over his life so he was still pursuing his cute rebellion. But of course, despite I was having fun seeing his naivety, it was time to strike hard and show him, once for all who had the power and who was really controlling his life.

It was, if I remember well a Wednesday afternoon. I was walking back home when I had the sadistic idea to make a picture of a mail box and send him saying I will be mailing a big envelope with all I had from him to his wife in 2h, just the time to get back home, print everything and of course, add a lovely letter to his wife explaining what’s all that and why I was sending her the truth about her husband. I never really though about how he could have felt in that moment. According to his messages, he felt sick. I was laughing too much to care about his feelings. I was like a greedy girl impatient to start playing with her new toy because yes, that was the moment when the poor little boy will become my toy. The starting point of his delicious nightmare.

Yes, he was broken. He end kneeling and he became mine.

As an act of mercy, I agree to let him keep his twitter bio intact in exchange of a big debt he could pay in weekly payments. I set an amount he will be unable to pay so I told him I could reduce that amount in time only if he was perfectly obedient and if he pleases me well.

He was doomed. Fucked and broken but now falling in love.