Tag Archive for 'slave m'

Sex life, granted!

Published on July 31, 2008 in Journal posts. 1 Comment

This morning I have been converted to a down-the-middle bisexual. I’m not sure why I never embraced the word “bisexual” before. A part of me felt it was sitting on a fence and being indecisive. Holy shit. There’s so many fences I’d like to sit on because I can jump over it whenever I want! Since 2003 I’ve embraced lesbianism and, although I had some romantic interludes with men, being with women was the easier way I could really let loose and feel true arousal.

I’ve asked slave m permission to talk about what I’m about to say, and we both would like to extend a peek into our lives for the purpose of hoping it connects to people on a very deep level. All we ask for is understanding. He and I have been living together off and on for almost two years but up until now we’ve had a nonexistent sex life. If I wanted to arouse him, I would hypnotize him or dominate him with whips and chains. He loved it. But the physical sex simply wasn’t there. Sometimes it would be hard for ME to get aroused by him, like if he would try to lick my pussy, because I would get aggravated because it didn’t feel right and I didn’t know how to take my time and teach him to do the things I like. By the way, teaching someone how to lick pussy while getting aroused is much harder than it appears! It was frustrating so I just gave up. Many times he’d walk away sad or disappointed because he felt he wasn’t pleasing me to the best of his abilities. It took me a while to embrace the idea that it was my RESPONSIBILITY to teach him and if I choose not to, then that’s my fault. Last night he licked my pussy on the kitchen floor after I hypnotized him which led to me cumming three floor-mopping times. He walked away feeling proud, a new man. Glowing with confidence. Then of course I gave him incentive to do it again in the future by reminding him that my world record is cumming 100 times within 2 hours. Now he has something to shoot for. Gotta have goals! While he went down on me, I did my very best to direct him. I guided him through the process of licking me the way I wanted to be licked. I explained how I like my clit sucked super hard but not too hard and when to lick softly and when to add more pressure. His eagerness to please me is so impressive that I want to reward him every minute. I remind him every day how happy I am that we’re together. I get goose bumps just remembering that he made me orgasm with his mouth for the first time - ever! Now I can’t wait to have his buried between my legs again. Hotness!!!

What I’m about to say might sound “crazy” to some and may land me in the hospital again, but I’ll say it anyway. I channeled Source/God into my hand while slave m slept (two nights ago) and allowed healing to flow from my hand into m’s cock. Many men, including slave m, struggle with erectile dysfunction and sometimes even impotence. He didn’t always used to have the problem. He used to brag about how good he was in bed, which is one of the things that appealed to me before we met. However right before he moved in, his testosterone levels began to decrease at a dangerously rapid pace which was causing a hormonal imbalance. For him it was embarrassing and he didn’t want to tell people about it. He started growing breasts (which he covers by wearing thick shirts), his voice became more soft and girly, his handwriting was super swirly and feminine, and many of his mannerisms were classic girl-like. For me, I felt a good way to ease his comfort would be to help him embrace feminization so he would embrace his fears of being humiliated for this problem. Sometimes I’d make fun of him just to prove to him how sexy it could be to be treated like a girl. He would get hard as a rock when I would dress him in panties or humiliate him. But most of the time I’d be sad when I’d want to be fucked and he’d have difficulty maintaining an erection. Viagara didn’t work. It was psychological and we both knew this. The night before I got admitted into the hospital, when I was “God,” I got the grand idea to balance our homonal levels. With my hand on his pituitary gland and then on his abdomen, I transferred my extra levels of testosterone into his body and transferred his extra estrogen into mine. Until that point, I always felt more masculine than feminine. He always felt more feminine than masculine. With the help of magic, we became balanced. We both felt the transfer and it had real energy behind it. He woke up out of his sleep and said, “I felt that!”

Last night (or was it the night before), I channeled God through my hand and concentrated on increasing his blood flow to his penis so that he could maintain erections for a longer period of time. His cock instantly got hard and STAYED hard and I wasn’t even arousing it. I only had one finger touching him and it wasn’t even moving. His cock must have stayed erect for at least an hour while he slept. (Which by the way, I seem to channel God the most when I’m sleeping so all this happened while we were in bed.) I told him that within 7 days his body would function normally again. I hypnotized him while he slept and watched his eyes twitch under his eyelids, which let me know his subconscious mind was listening.

This morning I wanted to test his cock out and make him my guinea pig. After I woke up from a beautiful dream and rolled over, there he was… sleeping like a baby. Out of curiousity, my eyes wandered down to his boxer shorts and there was his cock, hard as a rock. It was the first time I’d ever seen him sleeping with a boner. And it even appeared to have GROWN! My first instinct was, “Feel it. Touch it. Take it.” I just had to see how it would work!

I started sucking on his cock, which I had never done while he was waking up (in fact, yesterday was the first time I’d ever given him a blowjob before which blew his mind). His whole body responded to my mouth which made my pussy wet. I didn’t even care whether or not he was sleeping or awake. I just wanted to feel him hard in my mouth since an erection was a new experience for both of us. While sucking it, it started to get even bigger! It shocked the hell out of me. I thought it was as hard and as big as it was going to get! Then all of a sudden he woke up and realized what I was doing and he looked like a kid at Christmas when he realizes all the presents are for him. His deer-in-headlight eyes widened almost as much as his mouth did. I love seeing him shocked with happiness! We kissed, we touched. Then I told him I wanted to ride his big black cock, and boy did I mean it. In the past, this had been unsuccessful. His cock would eagerly get hard but then after a minute it would lay down and go to sleep even if psychologically he wanted it hard. This prevented me, before, from increasing my desire to have sex with him. He desperately wanted to give me an orgasm with his cock but the more we tried, the harder it became.

The night before I was hospitalized, I channeled Jesus into my body and decided to be a martyr for sex the way he was a martyr for violence. Slave m was having sex with me but his cock was limp and falling out and the whole time, I was screaming, “Yes! Fuck me!” And I was screaming so loud it could have awakened the whole neighborhood. For nearly thirty minutes, I magically “felt” his cock even though it wasn’t technically inside me. Slave m said I exhibited animal-like behavior. After that, I really can’t recall too much.

While I was hospitalized for “hallucinating I was God,” our bodies learned to heal. I even learned the art of forgiveness. It was a beautiful experience to finally TRULY forgive my mom, who I felt violently abused me physically and emotionally when I was a child. Now I love her so much that I’ll do anything for her. There are an infinite amount of methods a person can use to raise their children which avoid violence, however my mom was only aware of one way. I realized she did the best she could and she was only obeying what she thought was right. As far as slave m, he learned the art of removing guilt and sadness, which increased his inner confidence. For years, he’d feel guilty for everything, even if it wasn’t his fault. And I had deep-seeded vengeance in my heart because of my mom which is one reason why I secretly loved beating people. It was my therapeutic way of releasing my anger without actually allowing myself to be angry. That is healed now. For both of us. And I wanted to reward both of us by having sensational sex!

I crawled on top of him and before I put his cock in my pussy, I said things to him which let him know I love him. I told him I’d do anything for him, that I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love him now. That I didn’t know love before. That I see it now. The look on his face was the warmest, most beautiful look I think I’d ever seen from him. We made love. It started off slow and gentle and then built up with such momentum he rolled me over and fucked me doggy style really hard. I came. I orgasmed. I screamed. His cock pounded my uterus. Most of the time I couldn’t even force my eyes open because there was no choice but to surrender to the pain of the pleasure of the pounding! It was impossible to “fake it” because there was wetness all over the sheets and every time he rammed me, his cock would break me open a little bit more. So THAT’S what an orgasm feels like with a cock inside me! Ok, here’s my just-in press release. Penises are now officially hot! It was the first time we both actually, truly, had sex from foreplay to orgasm without interruption. It was orgasmic! It defied my wildest dream! Insert a thousand superlatives here! I loved screaming and telling him how big his cock was in my pussy. If penises are meant to hurt, then I’m a masochist. I could tell he loved hearing me scream, because the harder I screamed, the deeper he’d thrust. And it turned me on even more watching him grow more confident. Hearing him grunt, listening to the slapping of skin. Hot. I’m so grateful I learned how to trust people. The reward was orgasm.

Most memorably, was being able to listen to how fast his heart was beating, feel his sweaty black body against mine, and hear him out of breath when we finally collapsed from sheer exhaustion. We snuggled, we kissed. We got the “real” experience. He’s the only cock I’ve had inside me for 2 years so I was tighter than a virgin. *DEW!!!!* Just talking about this makes me so happy! I had sex! I had sex! I had sex! I wanna scream it from a rooftop! I wanna have it again!

Today I’m proud to say our sex life has turned extraordinary. I can’t wait to fuck him again when he reads this journal entry and realizes I’m gonna relinquish his cock with another treat. By the way, I’ve been off meds for two days now. All the stuff I’ve been feeling is genuine and real, without prescriptions added. Source must have desired this too because it felt as though God was masturbating while watching us fuck each other’s brains out like virgin teenagers! *SEXY Grrrrrrooowllllll* Let’s all fuck for God! She can enjoy porn too!

By the way, my friend Kay emailed me a humble suggestion (THANK YOU!) to handwrite slave m a letter and tell him how much he means to me. After he read my letter, he almost cried and said he’d never read anything so beautiful before and he put it in a safe place to keep it. We ended up necking and making out on the staircase for about an hour just telling each other beautiful things. It was a fantastic suggestion!

I would love to hear what other people have done to spice up their sex lives and what helped bring new life into the romantic aspect of it. Sometimes just a compliment is all it takes. Please, if you read this, will you share one of your favorite things to do to make someone feel good? I can’t wait to implement your ideas!

Love
Isabella
xooxoxo

Isabella’s dream

Published on July 15, 2008 in Journal posts. 1 Comment

So there’s this thing.

When I was a little girl, I dreamed of being a doctor. A neurosurgeon actually. During the course of my life, I walked along other paths which became more appealing to me. I successfully explored journalism, hospital janitorial work, graphic and web design, phone sex, and for the last five and a half years… domination and hypnotism. In high school, I worked as a cashier at a grocery store in the poor section of town while simultaneously working side jobs folding clothes at a laundry mat and cleaning apartments after residents moved out. It didn’t matter what job I had, I loved it. I’d invest my mind, heart, and soul into it and delve head-first into it and make it my passion. It’s easy to recognize the integrity of any type of work because essentially, all it is - is helping others. One of my favorite jobs was being a housekeeper/janitor for a rehabilitation center in Plymouth, Massachussetts where I was responsible for cleaning the residential wing of the geriatric section. The best part about it was getting to connect with the elderly patients and talk to them on a personal level, visit with them while cleaning their televisions and mopping their floors. The worst part, I suppose if there were such a thing, was cleaning up vomit and feces when they’d miss the toilet. The beauty of it is that I never gave a bad face or made people feel bad when they made “gross” in their bathrooms. I loved making them feel at ease. I loved reassuring the residents and loved even more telling them how important they were. I miss helping people on a “healing” level and for as long as I can remember, I’ve volunteered at hospitals. I’ve been around hospitals my whole life (my brother is handicapped and has required hospital care 24/7 for over 25 years), so I’ve never been squeemish around blood or bones. Science and anatomy are some of my favorite subjects, especially when combined with psychology and topics dealing with the mind. I feel more comfortable inside of a hospital building than I do in my own home sometimes. And because I’ve been around many life and death situations, I feel I could handle being under intense amounts of pressure in any given situation where I have to make sudden choices. And although these two things may not compare, I worked at a daily newspaper where we had deadlines practically every hour on the hour and the stress was insane. If I can handle the stress of corporate America and having ten bosses telling me that we need digital to film RC STAT, I think I might have the potential to handle the stress of running into an ER room at three in the morning to sew stitches in a child’s lip when a cat scratches it.

I do hope I have a point somewhere in this conversation. Where is it. Oh yeah.

So there’s this thing, like I said. When I was a little girl I wanted to be a doctor. I still want that. I don’t necessarily want to be a brain surgeon anymore but I’ve been seriously contemplating going to medical school to be a doctor of some sort. I’d like to be able to perform surgeries. Not just that, but I’d like to combine the hypnosis skills I’ve learned ALONG WITH medical practice to increase the effectiveness of healing others. It saddens me that some doctors frown upon hypnosis as a “new age thing” while some hypnotists frown upon doctors as being “all about medicine.” The truth is, sometimes medicine + hypnosis is far more effective than just one or the other when it comes to healing aches and pains. Hypnosis is a great tool for people who want to self-heal using the power of their own minds. Medicine is a great tool for people who rely on prescriptions to heal their bodies. But the two together are far more effective.

I thought my life plan would involve me being a psychologist or psychiatrist but the doors seem to be closing all around me. All the signs are pointing to no. The universe is clearly telling me that my direction is somewhere else. I didn’t mention this in my journal because I figured I’d just reapply, but Indiana University denied my application (and please don’t ask me why cause they didn’t give me a reason which just adds to my own confusion). Although I was slightly disappointed for not getting in, I’m actually a little relieved. You see, I’m getting the feeling Indiana isn’t going to be my permanent residence. Living in Bloomington, Indiana has been a blessing because it provides me with a “transition place” while I find the right direction for my life. One thing I know for sure is that this is not a permanent residence for me, nor did I ever expect it to be. Did you know that in ALL 50 states in the entire United States, this is the ONLY state where I cannot practice hypnosis in my own office without a license - and they won’t license me because of all the red tape? Yup. I’m telling you, there are so many signs telling me that my direction is somewhere else: I am going to follow the signs.

Which leads me to my point.

I am going to be moving in approximately 8-12 months and will sell my house. I’ve already spoken with my loan officer and discussed this with my realtor. My heart will always be in California (San Francisco area, specifically), however, my heart also belongs with slave m. He and I have been living together off and on for about a year and a half and one of the elements of our relationship we want to strengthen is our family ties. I want to spend my life with him (and with many people - I like multiple partners). His family is in Virginia. My family is in California. Perhaps we may be able to work it out so that I own two homes (it may require downsizing so that I can afford it) across the country. It would be awesome if I could attend college in Virginia Beach, Virginia and have a house there - as well as my own hypnosis office so that clients could come in for real time sessions. And it would be equally awesome to have a second home in San Francisco (or maybe just a room for rent or something) and an office so that I can do real time hypnosis sessions in an open-minded gender-friendly city where I can focus on transgender hypnosis and feminization and all those beautiful topics that interest me. Doing real-time sessions (as well as public seminars on “how to do erotic hypnosis” throughout the country) would certainly pay the rent for both places as well as my college tuition. THAT, my friends, will help me get through medical school so I can be a doctor.

And when I’m a doctor, I’d like to do soooo many things. OMG. That’s another journal entry. But for one thing, I’d like to go to underprivileged communities throughout the world and give my time to those in need. There are so many people who need doctors right now. Combine that with hypnosis and wow. Maybe world peace could happen!

Love
Isabella
xoxooxx

The path to love

Published on May 27, 2008 in Journal posts. 3 Comments

I am so pleased that I have such a beautiful group of customers who have stayed connected with me for so long. Sometimes I forget what it’s like from a different perspective. Most of the time, I forget to write people back via email due to time constraints. And other times I choose not to write people back because I know they’ll expect me to write them promptly or regularly all the time, which often I just don’t have the time or the motivation to do. So when I continually get letters from people (even when I fail to write them back), I am reminded of how lucky and privileged I am as a human being to have people who love to remain connected to me. I’d like to spend this journal entry just saying thank you to the people who write me. It’s a marvelous external validation to open my inbox and read letters from those who tell me their lives have changed either directly or indirectly in relation to the recordings I create. Sometimes I forget that my voice, my words… are worth such value to people. Times like today, I feel a deep connection to my fan base and all I want to do is give back. It’s not often I remind my clients they are special, but they are. I am the happiest woman in the world just knowing that there is at least *one* person out there that reads my journal entries. And to know that multitudes of people read my words is just icing on the cake. Nothing feels better than being loved, acknowledged, or wanted.

Sometimes at home, I struggle to maintain an image of excellence. Most times I succeed, but sometimes I fail. When I’m online, I have time to think before I write, which helps portray an image of excellence. So I can see why people are drawn to me online. There are times I wonder if the same people who are attracted to me online would equally be interested in me in real life. I crave connection all the time, and although I am in several current relationships right now (which is a big deal in itself)… I also want personal relationships with my clients. Most of my friends all agree it’s not the smartest idea to get too personal with clients. And I suppose anyone who reads this would also agree with it as well. Business relationships turning personal, in general, is a bad idea. But from a completely different perspective, sometimes I feel I’m willing to lose a little money just to connect to someone who puts me on such a big pedestal. There’s something magical about being worshipped in real life. The thing is… there are very few customers out there who have shared such personal things about themselves that make me trust them to invite them into my lives. Trust is my number one priority in all given relationships with people. Without it, there is nothing but a constant building of human connection. Sometimes I wish I knew more local people in which I could cuddle with. I have a couple cuddle partners but they’re involved sexually with other people and often times I feel I’m not enough. It’s both challenging as well as satisfying. I feel so many things.

The good news is that slave m is moving in with me in about 3 weeks which will be nice because I miss having a slave to beat. He brings the best out of me. I miss him very much. Our relationship is solid… the only thing that isn’t is our location. The constant moving in and moving out is aggravating at best. But when we’re together, our love is undeniable.

Also, I’ve lost 13 of the 15 pounds I’ve gained. The weight reduction is working. I like this very much.

I long for so many things. The anticipation of longing is often the worst part. I miss deidre. I miss her so much. I rarely talk about her in my journal because for the longest time she’s been connected in other intimate relationships and I didn’t want to be a jeopardizing factor. As long as she’s happy, I’m happy… which is why I’ve supported all of her previous relationships. Now she’s single, and I can’t help but think about her every waking minute of every day. I told myself the first day I met her that I’d wait up to 7 years to be with her. I’m still willing to wait another 5 and a half years. My gut tells me that one day we’ll be together. But are my instincts right? I hate the longing. I hate developing strategies sometimes. Patience is a virtue, I know. All I really want is to snuggle with her watching television. At this very moment, that’s all I want. Just to touch her. I miss her.

My relationships with Kasha and Xaenith are blossoming. It’s surreal. It’s a learning process. And my roommate Jenna is a bit mad at me for developing a relationship with Xaenith since she’s dating him too (actually so is Kasha). Jenna even hung up on me today which was maddening. This is why monogomous people shouldn’t be in poly relationships. Either shit or get off the pot, but don’t tell me to wait for you to decide. I don’t play that game. It hurt a great deal to be told, “I can’t believe he’d rather be with a lesbian than with me.” It was as though I was completely stereotyped in the worst possible way. I can self-identify as being a lesbian and still have intimate connections with men. I am attracted to mostly women, but many previous partners can testify that I have had long-lasting profound relationships with men. It just takes the right kind of man. *sigh* I better stop. What I really want to say is probably best discussed in my more private blog to avoid the hurting of feelings.

It’s easy to suppose that some people like me because I’m approachable and human, but also a Goddess. The problem is… sometimes I can be so realistically human that people see a new perspective of who I am. All it leads to is a deeper connection. Maybe that’s why I’m so grateful I have the customers I have. They’re friends, really. It’s beautiful. I’m thankful to be considered important in some people’s lives the way I consider some people important in mine.

I want to be in a relationship where I am my partner’s #1 and my partner is my #1. My mind is open to many ideas and I’ll know it when it lands in my lap. But I do long. I long for love in ways no one will ever know. I am in love with love and I know it. There are many different paths to love. I just want the destination.

Love
Isabella
xoxooxxo

Mind Ink

Published on April 27, 2008 in Journal posts. 1 Comment

I’ve been feeling rather artistic lately, so if you start to see stuff with lots of designs or whatever in my journal… please know that I’m just having lots of fun being creative. I like experimenting with photoshop brushes and stuff for new collages and whatnot. By the way, slave maurice is coming back to my place on June 6th to stay with me, which will be nice. Slavegirl jenna is a great girl and I’m positive you all will see lots of erotic hypnosis mp3s and photos of us in the future, but I’m not sure I picture her being a life partner like I do slave m. When maurice moves in, I’ll ask jenna to move out. She’s an amazing girl and it won’t take much at all for her to find a place to stay and do the things she does in life. I love her to death and will remain close friends with her. Right now I really want to concentrate on maintaining and strengthening my relationship with maurice. I don’t talk about him much in my journal for obvious reasons, but when he’s away, I often fill a void. He completes me. Very few people seem to understand our relationship and that’s ok. To set the record straight, no, I don’t fuck him. Our relationship is not physically sexual. We have a spiritual relationship with a connection that very few people could possibly understand. I love him AND I am in love with him. I have no desire to sleep with him. But yes nothing would make me happier than to spend the rest of my life with him. Life is so much more complete when I have a slave worshipping me every day. Even slave jenna agrees I appear much happier when slave maurice is around. Nothing would make me happier than to see him again in June. We’ve been living together off and on for a year and a half. It’s always come… and go… come… and go. I must admit, I have no expectations. I just know that when he’s here, I just feel sooo damn good and absolutely welcome him with open arms.

Isabella Valentine Erotic Hypnosis

Love
Isabella
xoxooxox

Girlfriend?

Published on January 4, 2008 in Journal posts. 1 Comment

I had the most interesting conversation with slave m tonight and it cracked me up so much I almost peed in my pants from laughing so hard. He and I had just finished watching America’s Next Top Model and were talking about models and family life and stuff and I asked him, “So what exactly do you tell your family back home when they ask about me?” And he couldn’t answer cause he buried his face in a pillow. I asked him, “Do you tell them I’m your Goddess?” and he started stuttering uncontrollably. I asked again, “Do you tell them I’m your Mistress?” - no response, he started laughing. I asked again, this time more curious, “They DO know I’m your Domme, right?” And he started stuttering even worse and rolled on the floor on his knees and said, “G-g-g-g-oddess……” totally scared with what he was about to tell me. Then incredulously I asked, “Surely you don’t tell them I’m your girlfriend…. (pause) … do you?”

Instantly he crawled to the other room in the hotel suite on his hands and knees while saying, “Y-y-y-essss…..” and closed the door behind him in embarrassment. After I called him back in the room, I asked again, “Do you seriously tell your family I’m your girlfriend? You don’t even have a job. No car. No home. You’re broke. And you’re my boyfriend? Are you kidding me? You’re a slave. A slave. A sssllllaaaavvvveeeee……”

His jaw dropped and started stuttering and began begging that I wouldn’t write this in my journal because apparently (as he opened his big mouth and told me) someone in his life reads this journal and he told HER I’m his girlfriend. Oh boy. So, to clear up any misconceptions, I’m posting this here. The black boy in these stocks below is a slave. He is not my boyfriend. I am his Goddess, not his girlfriend. And he’s actually beside me right now begging (and literally begging) me not to post this. This is what he gets.

Come on, now. Girlfriend? Gimme a break. Someone’s deluded. Actually I find it rather humorous that he’s so frightened to tell people the truth about our relationship. God forbid he starts to think I’m his wife. He is a slave. A beaten, pussy-whipped slave. And even more ironic is that a girlfriend is usually a term you give someone when you have an equal relationship. Not only that, he never told *me* I was his girlfriend and yet he tells his friends and family back home that’s what I am to him. Wow, someone is in denial. Guess he’s afraid of getting laughed at. Well, I may as well break the ice for him since he’s such a scaredy cat.

Slave maurice in stocks

Isabella Valentine in dungeon

Love
Isabella
xoxooxox

Happy New Years from Times Square!

Published on January 1, 2008 in Journal posts. 0 Comments

Happy New Year from Times Square in New York City! We videotaped the ball going down, the ton of confetti, beautiful fireworks, and everything else! When we get back home in a few days, I’ll post the video. Wow, it was a blast!!!

We’ve shot lots of videos and photos, so when we arrive home - you’ll see lots of new stuff for sure. We even shot a hypnotic smoking video from my hotel room. Hot.

2008 here we come!

Isabella Valentine in Times Square

Isabella Valentine in Times Square

Continue reading ‘Happy New Years from Times Square!’

Poetry Reading

Published on December 18, 2007 in Journal posts. 0 Comments

I had a lot of fun making this video, so I hope you find it enjoyable! I read some of my favorite poems from Jewel’s book, A Night Without Armor and did a little mini-poetry reading on film. Here is a new free video I’ve added to my video blog with a few songs by The Doors playing in the background. Watch free video here

Isabella Valentine - Poetry Reading

Also good news! Winter (I swear, that’s her name… winter) is flying over to Bloomington and arrives tomorrow night! She’ll be spending some time with me during the holidays. She’s quite the submissive and I’m excited to see what might happen! Wish us luck!

Love
Isabella
xoxoxox

it’s over

Published on August 30, 2007 in Journal posts. 0 Comments

I just wasted 9 months of my life training someone who wasn’t ready.

For those who wanted to see us fail, you got your wish.

This is all I am going to say about it. I will not discuss details or reasons or other things, because I believe that some things are better behind closed doors without being under public scrutiny. I will get over it. I will move on. I am resilient and can do anything with or without a slave. My search for the ideal slave will resume again.

Call Me When You’re Sober by Evanescence

Don’t cry to me
If you love me
You would be here with me
You want me
Come find me
Make up your mind

Should I let you fall?
Lose it all?
So maybe you can remember yourself
Can’t keep believing
We’re only deceiving ourselves
And I’m sick of the lie
And you’re too late

Don’t cry to me
If you love me
You would be here with me
You want me
Come find me
Make up your mind

Couldn’t take the blame
Sick with shame
Must be exhausting to lose your own game
Selfishly hated
No wonder you’re jaded
You can’t play the victim this time
And you’re too late

So don’t cry to me
If you love me
You would be here with me
You want me
Come find me
Make up your mind

You never call me when you’re sober
You only want it cause it’s over
It’s over

How could I have burned paradise?
How could I - you were never mine

So don’t cry to me
If you love me
You would be here with me
Don’t lie to me
Just get your things
I’ve made up your mind

Love
Isabella
xooxoxox

P.S. This time I am turning off comments because truth is, I don’t want anyone’s opinion on this matter. I don’t want or seek sympathy or “I told you so’s” or anyone asking personal information. I don’t want hugs. I don’t want emails. I just want a nice, stiff alcoholic drink.

slave m

Published on August 15, 2007 in Journal posts. 2 Comments

Just got off the phone with slave m. He’s currently staying with a family member due to an unexpected emergency (happened late July). Depending on circumstances out of our control, I expect him to return home on August 28th or 29th.

Time without him has been good and bad.

While I was in London, I spent a great deal of time with ANOTHER person whom I treated like a slave, which allowed me to release a lot of my power for control. I felt much better knowing I had somewhat of a “substitute slave” (but not actually a slave, just someone willing to put up with my power trips and demands). I didn’t dwell on slave m or think about him that much. I know he thought about me a lot though cause he told me how much he misses me and how sad he is without me. But the only slave I really thought of while in London was slave deidre. The perfect girl slave in every way. Is it wrong that I would have wanted deidre more than my own slave maurice to enjoy my time in a different country? Oh well. Needless to say, slave m wasn’t on my mind. I was actually kind of pissed at him to be honest, for reasons I will not get into.

Returning home, however, was a different story. I found that I miss him a great deal. I miss hearing him beg for permission to go to sleep or asking me what he can do to honor me, such as giving me a (much needed) foot massage or drawing my bath. Funny thing is, last night was the first time I soaked in the bathtub BY MYSELF without having my slave clean me, wash my hair, or shave my legs for a VERY long time. I felt alone in my tub cleaning myself. I missed hands in my hair. I missed water being poured gently over my hair to rinse away the shampoo. I missed holding my leg over the side of the tub so his hands would delicately hold a razor and remove unwanted stubble. I missed his legs behind me. I missed his back and shoulder massages while I would put eye makeup remover around my eyes and rinse it off. I missed him towel drying me from head to toe while he would be instructed to keep his head bowed.

I miss telling him I’m thirsty and knowing that seconds later, a bottle of cold water would be open and waiting for me to drink. I miss it.

Two more weeks without him seems like hell right now. The chair at the other desk is empty. That’s where he normally sits. At the other computer. Normally, I would turn to my left and I would see the back of his head. I love seeing the back of a slave, because it makes me feel even more powerful. I love knowing that I can walk behind him and sneak up on him or tower over him and when he turns, he must look up at me. I miss that. And I want him here.

When he does come home, he’s gonna go through hell to please me, I know that.

Love
Isabella
xooxoxo

Obligations and work

Published on July 22, 2007 in Journal posts. 1 Comment

Mmmm glances at the clock… it’s 7am and I’m still awake. Been up all night. Time flies when you’re having fun and being busy at the same time! On July 18th (four days ago), slave m moved in with me so we could finally start our lives together. I’ve waited such a long time to have a relationship like this, especially since I get to call all the shots and make my own rules and fuck who I want. Who wouldn’t want to live like that? It really is a dream come true.

People have asked me if having a slave means “bossing him/her around all the time,” and that kind of makes me laugh. I mean, sure, I tell him what to do and he obeys me. However, being in charge doesn’t necessarily mean being bossy. If I want something, say a bottle of water, I may say to him, “I’m thirsty, you know what to do.” He automatically stops whatever he is doing to bring me a cold bottle out of the fridge. He does it fast and obediently and with a smile on his face. And other times I may say to him, “Please pass me that over there.” That sometimes gets me thinking. Think about it for a moment. A dominatrix telling you to “please” do something? Some people may argue that Dommes never should say please because it is a sign of weakness, but I disagree. I believe that saying please is neither weak, nor strong, but simply a sign of respect. Sometimes I say it. Sometimes I don’t. Regardless of if I say it, the point is… the request will be obeyed.

And the whole uppercase/lowercase thing… sigh. If I’m on IM or email and speaking with one of my many slaves, then sure I’ll play the “text character” they want to see (or perhaps how I’m feeling at the time). But in my journal, I use it off and on because I don’t necessarily feel I’m speaking to someone, more like… speaking from my own head and it just so happens people may read it. I get confused when I’m asked to reply to someone and I’m not sure which capitalization method to use. It’s a pain in the ass. Domination is my life, so being asked to type text in a way that conforms to people’s perceptions of “true domination” is really ridiculous. I’ll write the way I want. Don’t like it? Don’t read it.

So much is going on right now that I’m really behind. I’m still working on mp3s that Mistress Alexandra and I recorded together and it’s aggravating because I really want to start working on my own stuff already. It’s been two months and my customers miss hearing my solo projects. It’s just with all my traveling, studying, and a long list of obligations in my personal life, I fell really behind. With slave m here, I’m finally getting some extra help to start catching up. He’s in audio training right now, learning all the tricks of the trade and I’m hoping within another 24-48 hours, I’ll release the last of the duet mp3s (excluding the one that comes out in October) to the public. After that, I am definitely going to start doing my solo mp3s.

My father has been waiting a great deal of time for me to publish his book and his patience has finally run out. I feel bad because he gave me the manuscript and I told two years ago I would publish it for him as a Christmas present. I kept running out of time. I really want to finish it, but I need to create solo recordings first because that’s what pays my bills (the catch 22 is that working on solo recordings right now is unfair to Alexandra who has been waiting for 2 months for me to finish editing these in post-production.) I had other obligations to other people who would ask me, “Have you done this for me yet?” or people saying, “I really need you to do this, you’re the only one I trust to do this and it has to be done now.” It’s really gotten to the point where I’m about to get really selfish because it seems all I do is help other people out and although the rewards can be nice, it is emotionally and physically draining. Last week I made a last-minute trip to California to help my mom get conservatorship rights over my brother. She was worried that without my eye-witness testimony, she may not win. She was such a nervous wreck when I arrived that she was in no condition to configure her legal paperwork. I traveled all the way from Indiana just to put together paperwork that proved 36 inaccuracies in the Court Investigator’s report to hand to her lawyer… and he didn’t even look at them! My testimony wasn’t needed in court. Hell, I wasn’t really needed at all when push came to shove. And yet, my bill for going there costed me over $1500 out of pocket. Not to mention the $8000 I spent there the first trip earlier this month. That money adds up.

I had intended to use that money to get a hotel in London. But because of several “this comes first” things, I haven’t paid for the hotel yet, which sucks. Can you imagine taking a plane out of country and not acquiring a decent hotel? Ah yes, I can hear my dad now, “Why are you going to London when you promised you’d work on my book? I thought you didn’t have time.” And although he hasn’t said it verbally, I know he is thinking it. And the thing is, I earned my London trip. I told myself that once I lost 100 lbs, I would go to London to celebrate my “getting to my half-way goal” and I’m not quite there, but very close (lost 90 lbs). I’ll have lost that amount when I return though. Unfortunately while I was in California, I got sucked back in to all my favorite restaurants and fatty/delicious foods and fell off track for a while. So I’ve worked it off and am back where I started a month ago. Sad, huh? Being in Indiana feels so much like home that it actually FEELS easier to drop the pounds here.

And slave m has a court obligation on July 25th which requires a quick trip back to Virginia. And since I’m the bread-earner around here, it’s my duty to make sure he gets there and back. It’s one thing after another. His laptop crashed. We found out it’s cheaper to buy a new computer than fix it. So I bought (with credit card) a new Intel iMac and am using that for me and am letting him use my older computer. Oh yeah, my older computer burned it’s power supply the same day his laptop crashed, so I had to replace that too. Running to and from stores to buy technical stuff is an all-day job, especially in this town. And people wonder where my time goes.

The list of people “needing” things from me is to the point I just want to shut off all communication. I understand that people need things. Perhaps I shouldn’t have offered my services to begin with. People can (and have) survived without me.

So for now, I am going to do what has to be done and thankfully I have a slave helping me with the burden. It really REALLY makes a difference and I’m very thankful to have him here. Even before I woke up this morning, he was upstairs setting up a parallel windows program on my mac so that I could use my windows-platform programs on the computer without having to repurchase a bunch of new items (for right now). Isn’t that sweet? I didn’t even have to ask him. That really surprised me and started my day beautifully.

I released the duet mp3, “Sensual Massage” earlier this morning. Also I added livejournal tags to the last 45 entries for more convenient navigation.

By the way I had sex with a hot, petite stripper with cute tits and a tight little ass when I was in Anaheim last week. I don’t even know what her real name is, how sad is that? I actually made a video blog of the “night after” in the hotel room and if I have time (low on priority list) I’ll post it.

I’m slowly turning slave m into a cuckold. Last night while cuddled in bed, I said, “I bet so-and-so is better in bed than you are.” This caught him off guard, but not surprising to me, aroused him a great deal. I’ve been calling him other names during intimate moments and after first initial shock, he acknowledges his inadequacies and that a Goddess likes me deserves variety.

Love
Isabella
xxoxooxox

Kiss My Feet

Published on July 12, 2007 in Journal posts. 1 Comment

Photo of slave m kissing My feet and obeying My every command :-)

Being a Goddess is hard work, but someone has to do it hehe.

Love
Isabella
xoxoxoxo

counting down

Published on June 9, 2007 in Journal posts. 4 Comments

I miss him so bad I just want to shout from a rooftop somewhere. I am impatiently counting down the days until I can beat his ass and hear his pain and then make him lick my dripping pussy afterwards. 36 more days till he moves in. 36 more days till I will have someone I can whip every night. 36 more days till I’ll have someone pounding the shit out of my pussy whenever I demand it. 36 more days until I can fuck with his head night after night while he looks up adoringly at me and I can feel, again, like the only woman in the world who exists.

Hmmm 36 days. 36 days is the same thing as 3,110,4100 seconds. Or 51,840 minutes. Or 864 hours. Or 5 weeks (rounded down)… or 1 month and 6 days excluding the end date… but who’s counting?

6 more days till his surgery. 16 more days till my trip to Long Beach (1,382,400 seconds or 23,040 minutes or 384 hours). 17 days till I attend the last segment of my NLP course to try to finish it. 22 days until my NLP exam. 23 days till I visit my brother and mother again. 25 days till my trip to San Diego and can visit my sister and SD friends again. 28 days till I return back to Indianapolis and try to get settled back to normalcy.

And 54 days till we go to London. 54 days. *sigh* So long. 4,665,600 seconds… or 77,760 minutes, or um…. 1296 hours…. but hey, if we’re counting seconds…. hmmm…. 40 seconds has just gone by… wait… 45…. wait… 49…. aahh I have to recount. shit. ok maybe the ocd meds haven’t kicked in yet today.

Domme and her slave

Published on May 27, 2007 in Journal posts. 15 Comments

Isabella and slave maurice together…

Love
Isabella
xooxoxoxo

still awake

Published on May 25, 2007 in Journal posts. 2 Comments

It’s 6:36am and I can’t sleep. Tossing and turning in bed. I tried everything. Even went into the gym and worked out for two hours. Tried going into the sauna and sweating, and showering. Tried reading a book without glasses. Nothing is making me sleepy. I can’t get slave m out of my head. He is flying to visit me tonight and all I can think about is our time together. It’s driving me insane. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I start daydreaming or fantasizing about naughty things, which ends up exciting or arousing me instead of making me sleepy so I end up staying awake longer. Tried sleeping on his side of the bed, tried sleeping upside down, tried sleeping in a different room. I tried even taking a few pills to calm me down a little. This is killing me. All I can think about is counting down the hours and staring at the clock to see him, but I’ve been awake so long the sleep is starting to catch up to me. This always seems to happen to me when I don’t want it to. Why is this happening? I mean, I’m not nervous. I’ve already been with him. Why do I have butterflies in my stomach all over again? Why do I feel like a teenager with a crush? Why does my heartbeat so much faster when I hear his voice on the phone? Why do I toss and turn all over the bed just thinking about greeting him at the airport - why does it even affect me like this?

I swear, I’m not a sappy romantic. Hell, I haven’t even said the “L” word to him yet. That’s such an intimate phrase and so many people throw it around lightly without giving it much meaning. I’ve always been the kind of person who tends to show love rather than say the actual word. I show it in the way I act, the way I care, the way I give, the way I provide, the way I show concern, and appreciation. When I DO finally say the words to him, I’ll say it and say it often. He says it to me all the time and I can hear the genuineness in his voice when he speaks. It just feels so weird… with him being more of the romantic type…. and I’m the one tossing and turning… over HIM. It just makes me wonder if perhaps I’m just afraid of those words. Yes a little. Last night he and I had a little talk about our relationship and I was asking him if he REALLY wanted to be with me. (All the negative talk everywhere was really starting to get to me and I just wanted his reassurance.) And he said all the right things a woman wants to hear. It really touched me. He said things I’d never heard a person tell me before, not even my own husband that I was briefly married to years ago. He said things that made me feel not only loved, but as though I truly was the only woman who existed on the earth. I have never in a million years felt that bond with anyone. Never. I mean, I’ve had people tell me they love me, but it just felt like empty words. Or it felt like an obligation. Or it seemed like “the right time” to say it in the relationship. Or they would say the words and then be hopeful for sex or something (there’s men for you). But he didn’t just stop with the words. He didn’t follow it with sweet nothings either. He followed it with an oath of heartfelt honesty. It touched me so much…. that…. well…. I was left practically speechless…. and well…. frankly, I changed the subject on him and started talking about the news. (Bad me.) He wasn’t upset that I changed the subject. In fact, I think it kind of touched him because he was starting to see that his words DID reassure me and by me avoiding the conversation, he had touched a very sensitive and rarely seen emotion. I simply just didn’t want to continue the topic over the phone.

That’s part of why I can’t sleep. I want so bad to tell him he has my heart totally and completely (the way he has so verbally expressed given his heart to me). I want so badly to be able to do it. I keep picturing how I’ll say it or how I’ll do it or how it will come out. Will I stumble over my words? Will I start stuttering really bad like he does when he gets all nervous? I usually giggle and pick on him when he starts stuttering cause it’s so adorable. But if I do it, I’ll die of embarrassment if I lose my words, especially since he’s always seen me in such a commanding light.

He has my heart. He has HAD my heart. I just haven’t had the guts to tell him.
Love
Isabella
xoxoxoox

Everyone’s opinions

Published on May 24, 2007 in Journal posts. 12 Comments

It really is a shame that I have to write this post.

Ever since slave maurice and I came out to the public about our D/s relationship, everyone has had voiced their opinions about us. I mean, it’s on every fucking hypnosis website, hypnosis group, hypno forum, etc. and the opinions range from being very positive and supportive to downright nasty and hateful. What is the big fucking deal? My lord. He and I have had an insatiable bond for the longest of time that didn’t include ANYONE else in our little world and all of a sudden, hundreds and hundreds of people all start piping in their comments about our relationship. If people were all positive, I probably wouldn’t mind as much, but as you know, people don’t always agree.

What really annoys me is that there are folks who simply don’t understand the 24/7 BDSM lifestyle at all. And because they don’t UNDERSTAND the concept of a full power exchange, they tend to point fingers and say hateful things. People made comments suggesting that we are idiots or slave maurice is making a big mistake or we are fools or whatever. First of all, may I remind everyone talking about us - that we are real people and these are OUR LIVES you are so blatantly attacking? I understand the craving to gossip about people who live in the limelight, especially when the hypno community is fairly small to begin with… but enough is enough! Regardless of what people say or how hateful people get, it’s not going to change our minds about how we feel about each other. Why? Because our relationship is not up for debate. It never has been. He and I have formed an everlasting bond and it’s not going to break simply because people are shocked by my occupation and his fetish. The only reason we came out publically, was because of the new site ownership of Inraptured.com, not for everyone’s fucking opinions about our personal relationship.

Several people now have expressed concern that he is giving up his “family” for me. God. For once and for all, he’s not fucking married with an armful of kids. Jesus christ. When I said he was giving up his family for me, I was referring to all his siblings, his parents, his family and friends who all live around him that he’s close to. Why does this matter to you all? It’s NOT YOUR LIFE. It’s mine. It’s his. Goddamn. Others have expressed concern that he’s merely “giving into a hypno fantasy” and making a terrible decision. Are you all fucking insane? If this was just a hypno “fantasy,” I WOULDN’T be doing this. It wasn’t like I just jumped into this relationship. And it wasn’t like I went looking for HIM. Trust me on that. The two of us found each other when we weren’t even looking. There was instant chemistry and it kept growing and never stopped. As he began to fall in love with me, I began to become more fond of him. This is not a fantasy, this is REAL LIFE. I’ve lived with a slave before. I’ve had a 24/7 slave before living in my home. It’s not the first time for me. This is NOT some fantasy world. Anyone who thinks it is a fantasy - well, it must be a fantasy for YOU, but it certainly isn’t a fantasy for maurice and I. It’s very REAL. Paying for plane tickets is REAL. Getting ready to move in together is REAL. Purchasing lots of bondage equipment is REAL. Checking the compatibility of our fetishes is REAL. Finding out his fetish level from this week to that week is REAL. There’s NOTHING fantasy about that. It’s only fantasy if you “think” about it and never follow through.

Thousands of submissives all over the world give up their lives, their jobs, their homes, to move in with dominants they met online. People they spent a long time getting to know and trust. Hell… if you think about it, even REGULAR people meet online and give up their jobs and move cross-country to be with the people they love. Why are we so different? Why should we be denied that right too? Why is it so wrong that he gave me his (non-profit) website as an act of love? Need I remind everyone I’ll be the one forking over my own personal money for new scripts, upgrades, and hosting. When someone loves another person, they give a part of themselves to another person. And when slave maurice gave me inraptured.com, he was VERY MUCH giving me a big part of himself and entrusting me with it. It was like handing me a key to his heart and saying, “I love you and there is no one I trust more than you and therefore I want you to have the one thing I have had of value for so long.” Why can’t people see the BEAUTY in that instead of seeing the vindictive side? Do people REALLY think I am the jealous type of girl who is going to ban all of my competitors and turn the site into an “Isabella site” simply to promote myself? Are people insane? Hell I’m not jealous of a single one of my competitors. Most of them are jealous of me. My money is more than fine thank you. (hello? I’ll be supporting me AND slave maurice on just MY income alone!) I swear, it just annoys me when people assume the worst about me - when they DON’T even know me.

The two of us have many safety measures in place, including “safe people” who have our contact info should anything happen to either one of us. I constantly ask him during our bdsm sessions how he’s handling what I’m dishing out to make sure he’s ok. Eventually I will ask him less and less because I’ll know his tolerance level. But for now, this is my way of building up a trusting relationship with him in person. For those of you who for ONE SECOND assume we’re not being “safe” don’t have anything to worry about. Even when I have him in a brainwashing cage, I have a video monitor in there to watch his every move. I have safety features and things he can resort to in the event he ever wants to put a halt to anything - none of which he’s had to do. I find it offensive that people would doubt my integrity, my professionalism, or my care over him. I take my care over slave maurice very seriously and I care over him the way I would care for my own child (if I had one).

Yes, I am a hypnotist. Yes, he is a hypnofetishist. Yes, he loves to be brainwashed. So what? What’s the big deal? You think just because I am a hypnotist, I don’t deserve love? You think that because I am a hypnotist in my professional life, I should never hypnotize people in my personal life? He and I share a fetish of hypnosis. That doesn’t mean I hypnotize him to do stuff against his will, hell that’s impossible anyway. People make it sound as though I FORCED him to move in with me. God. What is wrong with you all? I am his Mistress and he is my slave. He wants nothing more than to serve me for the rest of his life and there is nothing I want more than to have him down at my feet looking up at me.

The two of us have waited our whole lives to finally find each other. Whenever we speak to each other on the phone, there is a sense of urgency and genuine adoration that goes both ways. You can hear it in our voices. When we type to each other on IM, our conversations last hours and hours and we have to force ourselves to pull away even when our eyelids barely stay open, simply because we want to keep each other company. When we spend time together in person, we are inseparable. I can’t even describe our relationship into words and I shouldn’t even have to.

I do want to thank those of you who have shown an outpouring of support for us. The positive comments have FAR outweighed the negative comments, both in emails and in posts throughout the internet. For that, slave maurice and I are both very thankful. We’ve actually discussed this quite thoroughly and every time someone said something nice about us, we would share it with each other and say, “Look what this person said about us, isn’t it sweet?” and those really made a positive impact on us. I apologize in advance for the GOOD people having to read such a NEGATIVE journal entry, but you know how it is. For some reason, even when lots of people say something wonderful, there’s always a few bad apples that tend to stick out the most. I’m trying not to let it get to me, after all… I’m finally in the relationship I’ve always wanted. I’m not about to compromise it just because some people out there are confused why someone would actually go through with such an extreme lifestyle.

Some people are meant to live boring lives. Some people are meant to live exciting, extreme lives. Obviously slave m and I fall into the latter.

Love
Isabella
xoxoxooxox

wow

Published on May 22, 2007 in Journal posts. 3 Comments

I’m on an emotional high right now. I feel so… wow.

maurice

Published on May 22, 2007 in Journal posts. 4 Comments

The cat’s out of the bag.

slave m = maurice williams

Maurice is the creator and former owner of the hypnosis resource site Inraptured.com where many hypnotists and hypnofetishists around the world come together as one community. Today, we put a public notice on the site finally “coming out” with our Hypnotist/slave relationship. For those of you who go to the site periodically, it probably won’t come as that big of a shock - especially considering our flirtatious online relationship that seemed to grow and grow since June of 2006.

If any of you would like to read my letter (and his letter too), simply go here:
Isabella and Maurice: New Ownership of Inraptured.com

Love
Isabella
xoxoxoxo

Bed view

Published on May 17, 2007 in Journal posts. 5 Comments

P.S. I see slave m again May 25-29th… he’s flying out here again for another 5 days. We already miss each other so bad.

P.P.S. I promise I am working on these recordings.

Trying to get back to normal again

Published on May 16, 2007 in Journal posts. 3 Comments

Now that I have the house to myself again, I’m trying to get back to my old routine. I still have 16 recordings to edit in post-production, so trust me… I have PLENTY to stay busy! Mistress Alexandra and I have tons of new stuff for you all! One of them I’ve already been working on and it won’t be too long till that one is released.

Tomorrow I have a deep tissue massage appointment on my abdomen. I’ve never had a deep tissue massage before. I mean, I’ve had swedish massages. I’ve had hot stone massages. I’ve had rain drop therapy massages. I’ve had shiatsu massages. Thai massages. But never deep tissue. But last time I went, my energy massage therapist (not Charity, she does hot stone massage) named Beverly said she’d like to concentrate on my abdomen and do some deep tissue work which might help release some tension and also in my arms and shoulders too. She’s very good with energy work and I’ve never had a deep tissue massage (especially on my abdomen) before, so perhaps it might even help with digestion and make an overall positive impact on my body. Who knows? So I’m really looking forward to that.

Also after waiting almost a month on the waiting list for an appointment for plastic surgery just for a consultation (not to GET the surgery, just for a consultation!) I had time to really think about whether or not I wanted to get an eye lift or not. And two days ago I decided I didn’t want one after all. I called the doctor’s office and asked if I could get a botox treatment instead (since Mona Blu recommended it and I trust her). I’ve never gotten a botox treatment before so I’m a little nervous. I’m deathly afraid of needle injections. I mean… I have tons of tattoos… but they glide across the skin, they don’t go in deep. The act of needles penetrating skin always freaks me out. But I really want to do this and I know the outcome will be worth it. Plus - hell I’ve waited a month for an appointment already. I go in Friday.

Oh. Today. I finally. Finally. Finally. FINALLY got approved for health insurance (what a fucking hassle for the last 5 years). And um. I added maternity too (just in case). Not that pregnancy is on my brain or anything but you never know what might happen way down the road and I don’t want to be shit up stream without a paddle. Besides, it won’t cover maternity for 12 months anyway, so don’t worry boys - it’s not on my priority list right now. haha. But then again, if I do decide to get pregnant (with slave m or in the future with a lesbian partner) it will definitely come from a black man’s sperm - that is so hot to me! By the way, I’m insured up to $8 million dollars. Holy moly. *goes cross-eyed*

Tammy graduates college Friday. I love you, Tammy. I bought her a champagne brunch cruise for 4 people in San Diego, a Coach purse, and a Tiffany bracelet. I am so proud of her. I love you, sis.

My mom has a hearing in Orange County to try to get conservatorship (sp?) over my brother in court. The whole thing has been a nightmare for our family. He has been moved out of his group home now and is now in a new group home. His medication has changed slightly which is good and she said his environment is actually better. However, her lack of rights over him is still making life hell. We just want this over with. The new doctor in charge of him is actually trying to compromise with my mother (a good sign) so there seems to be some light at the end of the tunnel. My brother, on the other hand, who doesn’t have the mental capability to understand what’s going on, is shocked at his new environment and feels hurt and betrayed and by everyone cause he doesn’t recognize anything anymore. When he’s sad, my mom is sad. And when my mom is sad, well… can you say “stress”? I hope they give her rights over him soon and he adjusts to his new home. I just want Abe to find peace. And I want my mom to be happy too.

By the way, speaking of mom. I bought her a gold bracelet with the word “mom” for mother’s day. It was the first mother’s day gift I bought her in over 10 years. She was shocked that I bought her something. I have always hated her. This is the only year she and I have been cordial to each other and made a truce and she actually supports me. That doesn’t mean she accepts my alternative lifestyle or my bdsm behavior or my “sinful” nature…. but she cares about me and when I needed a safe person to call when slave m was here, my mom was there for me. We haven’t had a single fight or argument in a year now. She choked up on the phone when I talked to her. It was quite nice actually. slave m was holding my hand the whole time.

I miss slave m already. I know I just saw him this weekend, but I miss him already. Everything reminds me of him. I need to be with him. Hopefully by Friday he and I will be able to schedule our next visit with each other, which we EXPECT might be in 2 weeks unless the surgery delays. Oh I’d soooo love to see him right now. Just to be with him. To hug him for one of those long 15-minute hugs. To cuddle with him in front of a movie only to be more interested in each other than the film. To spoon with him under the covers in bed listening to Mazzy Star with John Holmes at the foot of the bed purring. To laugh in the gym while exercising to boxing dvds while boxers hump each other when they spend too much time holding. To put a hood over his head so his sense of smell becomes overloaded. I want him to smell my perfume on my skin, smell the shampoo in my hair, smell the clothes on my back…. so he becomes obsessed with my scent. So I’m crossing my fingers that perhaps in merely 2 weeks the two of us will cross paths again and he will bow before me as my faithful slave and he will endure the blows of my cane and my warm whispers in his ears telling him to worship me forever. And he will look into my eyes, with his look of many faces, pain - more pain - closet pain - enduring excruciating pain in tortured chastity while I bounce on his lap, teasing him relentlessly, knowing that simply looking into his eyes will bring him such arousal that he will be able to endure any suffering for my pleasure. His willingness to endure such distress stimulates me more than I’ve ever known. I’ve always been into sadism - some consider it borderline extreme sadism if you will (if you knew how much, you may be slightly shocked). When I confess my unsettling (some call them disturbed) fantasies with him, he embraces them now with an open mind now that he’s experienced time with me. Now he is even open to participating in those fantasies with me which has been my dream my whole life. I am absolutely smitten with him.

Love
Isabella
xoxoxoox

My weekend with slave m

Published on May 14, 2007 in Journal posts. 11 Comments

I’ve got jungle fever…

slave m returned home today and all I can say is that things couldn’t have gone any better or any smoother. The two of us couldn’t have had stronger chemistry than we did.

I met him at the airport and at first his flight was delayed (and it was his first time ever on a plane, so he was already nervous as hell about that). When he saw me, I was sitting on a chair with a skirt and my boots on with ash brown hair and a sexy shirt and I saw him looking around nervously. Our eyes met and locked and I put my finger up to my face as if to say “come here” and he immediately walked over and sat beside me without looking at me. He was shaking like a leaf. He couldn’t speak. His whole body was shaking. He couldn’t even turn his head to look at me. I put my hand on the back of his head and whispered in his hear, “You are so very relaxed. Close your eyes and relax. Take a deep breath and relax.” and he did. And his heart rate began to lower and for the next 5 minutes, I did a relaxation induction to make him less nervous because I knew he was extremely nervous about the entire ordeal. And after 5 minutes his body was calm and it was as though the two of us were the only ones that existed inside the airport. Then he pulled out a gift out of his bag for me. A glass (or is it crystal?) clock with a personal engraving telling me how special I was and then he signed his name on it. The gift was absolutely breathtaking and I thanked him and told him I had something for him too. He knew what to expect. He lowered his head and I put the steel collar around his neck and padlocked it. Then I attached the leash, asked him if he was ready to go home and with a calm voice he said, “Yes Goddess, I’m ready.” and the two of us walked out of the airport together - his head bowed while he stared at the back of my boots as we walked into the parking lot, ignoring any prying eyes.

When we got home, I told him to undress and he asked if he could undress in the bathroom. I said no. This scared him. I told him to get on his knees. He did so. I told him to take his shirt off, which he did. With me standing above him and him being on his knees, I stared into his eyes - which felt like I was stealing his soul. I told him to remove his belt, pants, and underwear while on his knees as I stood above him. He knew from where I was standing I couldn’t see his naked body anyway cause I was directly above his face and was only staring at his eyes. Neither one of us were blinking. He was starting to shake again out of nervousness. I liked seeing him nervous. hehe. He got naked. Our eyes stayed locked. Then I told him to grab the towel at his feet and cover his genitals so I wouldn’t have to look at it. He thanked me for mercy. I suppose he was so overloaded with nervousness since it was the beginning of our meeting that he didn’t want me to see his naked body yet. Then I told him to get inside the sauna for 35 minutes where it got about 110 degrees and he had to sit naked and get sweaty (which also lowered his heart rate and I thought was essential for setting the tone and making him relaxed). I left him alone in there for 25 minutes. For the last 10 minutes in there, I shocked him by walking in there wearing nothing but a towel and sat beside him while he was sweating (by the way one of my brainwashing recordings was playing on the cd player in there the whole time). Within 5 minutes, I was sweating and I commanded to lick the sweat off my body which he did immediately. He was already feeling submissive. After we got out, I told him to put on only a pair of black boxer briefs (ooh so sexy), which he continued to wear the whole day.

The things I put him through were VERY extreme and he endured it ALL and THEN some. I showed him true edge play and he did things he never thought possible and opened up his mind to so many new things and now he’s even more devoted to me than ever. The attraction between the two of us is very real and sparks flew from the moment I saw him. I did not have intercourse with him (that was purely my decision although he begged and begged and begged to have sex with me) but wow… he sure made me cum in many other ways using his mouth and his fingers. He rimmed my ass with my tongue (something I wasn’t sure if I would like, but I wanted him to do it cause I was curious to see if I would like it), fingered my ass to orgasm (again - something I’m usually not into, but I was so aroused … I was pretty much open to so much more stuff)… he performed oral sex on my pussy (holy shit I was cumming like crazy), fingered my pussy several times (omg that was hot), sucked on my nipples just the way I commanded him to, drew me a warm bubble bath and sat behind me with his feet in the water and massaged my shoulders and shampooed and rinsed my hair, washed my body, shaved both of my legs, dried me off with a towel, picked out my clothes for me, set the table and got dinner ready, gave me many foot and full body massages, allowed me to put a hood over his face which covered his mouth and eyes and only exposed his ears so that I could speak to him and/or put earphones on his head, let me use pin prick vampire gloves on his back, use all kinds of bondage devices on him while being locked in place to test his trust to me, etc.

I even padlocked him inside the brainwashing cage with black fabric draped over it with 4 strobe lights within it and a flashing hypnosis light and a pair of earphones (with high volume) while he was shackled and gagged his mouth while he was inside. I gave him a bike horn with an embarrassing sound he would have to squeeze in the event he felt faint or dizzy (which he never had to use, thank goodness). While inside the cage, I had bought a video monitor with night-vision and hooked it on the upper right hand corner so I could watch him at all times within the cage to see how he was handling the brainwashing. I was SO turned on. I had him in it more than once during his stay. I loved seeing him gagged! Also I put him in a chastity device with the points-of-intrigue which cause extreme pain when he gets an erection so I spent the whole weekend teasing the fuck out of him and he pretty much maintained a full erection the whole time. So he was in pain constantly. I would even sit on his cock practically naked and put my breasts on his face (which only made his cock harder and the pain would intensify) while I demanded he stay quiet and not make a sound. This only made my control over him more intense and made his erection stronger. I loved that feeling so much! When I put him in the brainwashing cage, he was practically screaming with that gag in his mouth and moaning with his eyeballs popping cause he felt so good and yet in so much pain and I was watching him on video the whole time. Later he said it was one of the most erotic experiences of his whole life and he had no idea pleasure and pain could feel so good. He had always assumed in the past that pain was pain. He assumed pleasure was pleasure. He didn’t know they could mix together so well.

I even used 15 whipping devices on him - floggers, paddles, riding crops, even a cane! He took them so well! He has welts all over his ass…. I was extremely impressed. Wow. He had no idea he was capable of enduring such harsh pain that I dished out. ESPECIALLY SINCE HAD NEVER BEEN SPANKED BEFORE. I was sooooo turned on watching him gasp in pain while I took the cane all the way back in the air and struck him as hard as I could. I had prepared his ass to get nice and warm for nearly an hour before getting him to that point so the blows wouldn’t be so harsh, but the sting of a cane is enough to make a grown man cry. He didn’t utter a sound. He just flinched, swallowed and grit his teeth and I heard a large gasp of air come out of his lips. That breath of air turned me on in so many ways. And he was becoming aroused with each stroke, so his cock was enduring pain as well (in his chastity device with the sharp points digging into his penis). For someone who had only been in vanilla relationships his whole life, I was really impressed with his pain tolerance as well as endurance.

Throughout his brainwashing and my random hypnosis… snapping my fingers and him falling to the floor immediately in a hypnotic sleep…. or putting a pendant to his face and commanding him to do things he never thought possible…. he did things…. things… he swore he would never be turned on by. I knew otherwise. He even tried on a pair of satin panties for the first time. And he loved them! He wore a satin nightgown too! And a skirt! And a wig! And high heels! All these things! And he loved them SO much that his erection had him SCREAMING for hours inside his chastity device. He was shocked that he could possibly like such an embarrassing ordeal. I was showing him that humiliation can cause pleasure (just like pain can cause pleasure). He mind was going through a sensory overload. I even took pictures of him while he was in bondage and a hood over his head while dressed like a girl and blackmailed him and will use those pictures against him in the future if he doesn’t follow my instructions. He found out that blackmail is a new fetish of his as well. Several other new fetishes I tried on him he ended up loving (I can’t mention them here due to Niteflirt TOS but let’s just say the two of us are very compatible on many levels).

Later on I performed a love spell on him - a real one. I got out my magickal spells and witchcraft candles and stuff and with his permission, the two of us made an everlasting bond where he dedicated his life to me to be under my control for the rest of his life. That moment became very real to him. The constant reminder of the locked steel collar around his neck and my leash pulling him (by the way I leashed him in public when getting food for him and also at the airport), the constant reminder of my ownership over him with leather shackles on his wrists and ankles…. he even got locked with a leg spreader around his ankles and was forced to walk around and fetch things for me around the house which he found incredibly challenging to learn how to walk sideways through doors. I showed him a little bit how I make hypnosis recordings, since he would be trained how to help me with sound effects and post-production and he was absolutely fascinated with how it works. Poor guy almost went into a trance just listening to it in pre-production and I kept having to snap him out of it.

I had him under lock and key the whole time. The house completely alarmed so he couldn’t leave. His cock under my control (chastity) so he couldn’t touch it, have a full erection, or ejaculate (although I let him once during his time here but it was embarrassing the way I made him do it). I controlled when he ate. What he ate. When he was allowed to go to the bathroom. When he was supposed to go to the gym and work out with me. Which machines he was to use. When he was supposed to stop working out. Which clothes to wear. Which clothes to remove. He learned that I punish him immediately on the spot when he says things that are inappropriate (for example: “May I put my shirt on, Goddess?”) that comment got him 5 hand spankings simply because there was no reason for it. It wasn’t cold. He was just embarrassed. I told him while I was spanking him that if I want to embarrass him, he will endure it because it is for my pleasure. He simply said, “Yes Goddess.” Eventually I spanked him less and less cause he caught on quickly and learned what I would and would not tolerate.

On another level, I love sleeping with him in bed. I had planned to make him sleep in the guest room, but I wanted to feel his arms around me and see if the two of us were compatible as sleeping partners. Boy were we! The way he spooned with me. Wow. His arms holding me tight. His warm lips on mine. Wow. Felt so good. I love climbing on top of him and holding his arms down and looking deep into his eyes and saying a few words of hypnosis and watching him lose complete control to me and it’s as though he just melts underneath me. He tells me constantly how beautiful I am and how unworthy he is to be in my presence. He tells me that I am out of his league and that he is such a lowly slave and so very undeserving. When he says stuff like that, I just take him in my arms and cradle his head to my breasts and hug him and he tells me, “I love you” and I return his comment with, “You will always be devoted to me.” And it just makes the bond stronger. The way he stares at my body - it’s as though I’m a gold statue or something. I’ve never felt more beautiful or more sexy. He admires everything about me. The way he touches me… he compliments me while touching me to remind me of my beauty whether or not I need to hear it… simply because he feels a Goddess deserves to hear how amazing she is. How incredible is that? I am still in shock. As is he. He is in shock that he endured all that he went through (wearing the panties was the most shocking he said) and that he found someone he wants to spend his life with in such a short time. I am in shock that I have found… well, a man (although I will still be attracted to women my whole life) with whom I believe will be my life partner. My slave.

He and I have discussed already our interest in moving in together. However there are still some last minute details that need to be taken care of first on his end that simply can’t be rushed. A surgery. Health insurance stuff. And a few financial things. The process may take a month or so, I think. It would break my heart if he changes his mind. I doubt he will, but there are other factors involved that might jeopardize his moving here. But I can say one thing with certainty… if/when he does move here… it will be lifelong. And we both know that.

Love
Isabella
xoxooxox

Bella Trickster

Published on May 3, 2007 in Journal posts. 5 Comments

Well today’s the day! Enchantress Alexandra flies down from California woohoo! She’ll be here some time tonight which will be nice! (I’m writing this at 2am Thursday morning, but she’ll be here late Thursday night). We’ll be spending lots of time in the studio together, so please bear with me for several days to not only record the material, but edit it in post-production. Keep in mind I’ll have slave m coming right after she leaves, so that leaves very little time for me to work on it in post-production for a while. So it may not be until the 15th until you see a lot of new material from me. However Alexandra and I may surprise you all with one or two on the 8th or 9th with a “simpler” recording that requires less editing from me. Who knows. Let’s play it by ear and see. But after the 15th, you all will see a lot of stuff from us. So keep your eyes and ears on the screen.

Love
Isabella
xoxoxooxo

P.S. Men act really funny with their penises. They’re always pulling on it like they’re unsure if it’s attached to their bodies or something. Watching men masturbate looks so weird to me. It’s like watching a monkey pulling on a stick. And at the end, they give up.

preparing for slave m

Published on April 28, 2007 in Journal posts. 2 Comments

Today I felt my first rushes of nervousness go through my body in my excitement just fantasizing about my future time together with slave m. And I know it’s normal to be both nervous and excited when it comes to meeting a complete stranger whom you connect with online but have never met in person. I feel so many emotions towards this person and the truth is, I know that deep down HE is more nervous than I am. He is scared shitless to meet me because he puts me on such a high pedestal. And not only that, he worships the ground I walk on and has never once lived, breathed, or experienced a BDSM relationship, so he will be looking to me to set all the mood and the pace. I have no problem with that, I actually prefer it that way. And until today, I wasn’t really nervous at all. But for some reason, today I was sitting down and it occured to me, that… oh my God. This will be my first time… in a LONG time… that I have taken an unowned slave into My home and began the art of training. The act of starting from part one… setting rules. Enforcing them. Enforcing commands. Setting limits and and guidelines. Giving instructions and what to do, what not to do. How to do it right. What I like and how I like it. What to say and how to say it right. How to lower your head and when the right time to do it is. When to beg and when it’s simply ridiculous.

Training a slave is an art form. Anyone can pretend to be a dominatrix. But only someone who has clearly been doing this for years can have the patience to train someone the proper way. And the thing is… no one can be trained in a weekend. It just can’t be done. Otherwise, you’re just training a “play slave” and it’s not real slavery. It’s just a fun time and it’s not anything tangible and it’s not what I’m seeking. What I’ve been doing with slave m has been putting him through somewhat of an online training for months, to get him somewhat ready for what will happen to him. And what to expect when he arrives from me and what I expect from him in return. I’ve been trying to teach him about pain and pleasure and introduced him to so many different fetishes he had never heard of before. Many he had misconceptions about and I had to go through them one by one and say things like, “No… actually… you’ve