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Monday, April 12th 2021

MORE Wit & Wiles Of A Narcissistic Manipulatrix!

Part Two.

More fuel for the raging fire…

“What do your friends think/ say about you being a cruel, narcissistic Dominatrix?” What friends? I’m a lone wolf, and for good reason. I cut out all the dead weight in My life a long time ago. People are mostly silly and draining. I prefer to make strategic alliances, use them to meet My interim goals, and then discard them. “The ends justify the means”.

“If you carry on like that, no one will ever…” Zip it. If I were ever unfortunate enough to suffer from the concussion it would require to want to seek life/ relationship advice from a lowly common wanker, I would indeed ask you.

“How do you break subs/ crush egos?” I don’t have a convenient cookie-cutter answer for you. It’s more a matter of using My instinct, intuition and intelligence to take a brief snapshot of My prey, and then I work accordingly. It would no longer be fun for Me if I dumbed-down and distilled My process any further.

“You can’t possibly get pleasure from manipulating men? Does it make you cum??” Au contraire! Pleasure comes in many forms, and I derive much from toying with inferiors. Ejaculation is not an end goal and so does not factor into the equation for Me, unlike you. I see Myself as above such basal distractions. If I were to indulge in that type of basic behaviour, it would ultimately mean a loss of control. Being a narcissist, I couldn’t and wouldn’t tolerate that.

“Why do you call yourself a Manipulatrix?” I enjoy manipulating men. I like to be upfront about this,so you know what you’re getting in advance. I see no reason to conceal this fact.

“I bet I could manipulate you… I’m a successful, loaded, tall, sporty, hung, rakish, handsome alpha male!” Even if that urban legend is indeed a fact, and the ‘alpha male’ unicorn does exist, you have already shown your hand, and therefore you will ultimately lose. Learn to be a tad more stealthy in your objectives, and you may well have a shot (not with Me). By the way, your physical attributes, success markers, and imagined prowess have diddly-squat to do with anything.

“Do you think you’re better than other Dommes?” I never think about other Dommes. If I ever did, I’d have no need to draw comparisons.

“Do you think women are better than men? Are you a feminist??” Are you suggesting that we’re not better? Are you a misogynist?? To be in competition with lesser beings would be senseless. I am not a feminist. For clarity: superiors fighting for equality with inferiors would mean a drastic downgrade. Try and compute that; it’ll serve you well in the future.

“Do you feel any remorse or regret for destroying male pride/ egos/ privilege/ savings etc.?” I do not feel these useless emotions. Same goes for shame, guilt, doubt and fear.

“Do you intend to cause harm? Do you target the weak and vulnerable?” I don’t target anyone, because I don’t have to. Men like you offer themselves to Me on a cheap tin platter, and I simply cherry-pick who I wish to play with in the moment. On occasion, harm MAY occur as a consequence of his involvement with Me, but my only intention is to have fun at a man’s expense. I choose not to interact with the lowest of the low-hanging fruit, simply because I do not have the patience to do so. They are too mentally-draining and yet not quite challenging enough to amuse me.

Wm: “I just LOVE the (racially-charged) inverted Master/ slave dynamic! Make me pay reparations for my ancestor’s transgressions! Humiliate me by making me submit to you and worship that sexy black body of yours… Whip me! Slap me! I love it!!” If that was actually intelligence and cunning, covertly masquerading as sheer ignorance and privilege, and you weaponised it; you’d be simply dangerous. If you had any level of self-awareness and consciousness, you’d be thoroughly embarrassed to have uttered such bile, out loud. As it stands, you’re a credit to your aforementioned, plantation-owning, ancestors…

Wm: “I bet you believe in the ‘Black New World Order’, don’t you?!” I believe in it to the extent that I can capitalise off the fetish (ie. as it translates into pounds and pence). Just as I choose to capitalise off the fetishisation of My skin colour as a basic premise. BNWO may serve a purpose for now, and it mildly amuses for various reasons, therefore it still has some mileage. What gives it its heft is that men like you wholeheartedly buy into it. That enables Me to take full and maximum advantage. You are the ones adding the necessary fuel. Cheers for making it so damn easy to exploit your insecurities.

Wm: “WHITE LIVES MATTERRRR!!” Indeed; you provide endless fuel, amusement, currency.

“Do you take yourself seriously?” As seriously as is required to make the maximum amount of pounds sterling, and to experience the maximum amount of amusement whilst doing so. Beyond that, no.

“Can’t you do something else? Why don’t you do something worthwhile instead?” My goodness; you are absolutely right! If only I spent as much time on philanthropic pursuits, as you do on revenge-wanking over your cheating ex and explicit material, I could, single-handedly, heal our man-ravaged planet… Oh well.

“Do you use (guided) hypnosis to manipulate and control men?” Not unless requsted. However, I do always use hypnotic language, pace, tone, questions, suggestion and repetition in all calls to establish and maintain a powerful hold.

“You've been around for a decade now; do you coach or mentor newbie Dominatrices/ Humiliatrices/ Manipulatrices?” On the rare occasions that I have agreed to do so, I’ve found that said noobs weren’t actually ready. They didn’t have (or couldn’t cultivate) the required awareness, consciousness, skillset, tenacity, and mettle in order to succeed, and therefore they stumbled within the first few hurdles. So no, I no longer have the patience or tolerance for this activity.

“Do you think you have to be a narcissist to be a successful Manipulatrix?” No, but it certainly helps! Men (especially horny ones) are such by nature that most pretty girls can easily fake it and get away with it. Most men are only looking for a brief and shallow encounter, most of the time (after all, it takes most of you mere seconds/ minutes to cum). Personally, I prefer much deeper (ongoing) interactions which would be classed as medium to long term. My mental manipulative penetration is more akin to a ‘slow comfortable screw’ on mulberry-silk sheets, rather than the desperate quickie in a filthy, piss-stained alley. The kind of manipulation where you can barely detect what is taking place, but you’ve already fallen way too far down the rabbit hole to care or to be able to escape…

TO BE CONTINUED.

Sunday, April 11th 2021

The Wit & Wiles Of A Narcissistic Manipulatrix

And here I present, for your viewing pleasure, a not-so-brief round up of some of the thoughtful comments and questions I’ve received since about the beginning of rona lockdown #1, plus my responses. See if you can spot the hidden theme…

Part One.

“Is every dominant woman wielding a whip a narcissist?” No. And conversely, I have never needed to wield a whip.

“Are you cynical about men?” I am indifferent to you. I automatically think the worst of you, and expect you to fail at every turn. You rarely disappoint. As you’d expect, I use this to My advantage.

“Surely you have a nurturing, mothering side?” Yes, mainly for the four-legged and winged variety of creature.

“Is a narcissist evil?” What is evil? I subscribe to the view that evil is simply incorrect thinking (which can corrupt behaviour); and so it is something everyone, even empaths and religious nuts, are capable of. Most people live in this, and operate from this, state (a false belief system and erroneous thinking).

“Is an empath an enemy to a narcissist?” No. To say that would be to give them too much power. I maintain power.

“Do you have any empathy at all? Aren’t you essentially good (at your core)?” Define “good” in a way which is both universally sensible and palatable. I hold a reserve of a maximum 20% empathy, which I use for My closest family members, and the aforementioned creatures.

“Is a narcissist born of nature or nurture?” To me, a mixture of both, but mostly nurture. Narcs are created by the fundamental need to self-protect, preserve and dominate their environment.

“What do you believe is an average persons’ true nature?” I believe that people are largely unintelligent (ie. they operate from a very shallow, superficial, auto-piloting part of themselves, without any depth, self-awareness, high-consciousness or original thinking), inauthentic, predictable, self-serving and lazy. This mixture makes such a person ripe to be targeted by a master manipulator like me.

“Power isn’t everything!” Neither is the rejection of it.

“When out of character, surely you go gaga for a big dick like the rest of them?!” What character? What dick?? As I remarked to a sub just yesterday, My kind don’t pander to (ANY) dick, and so We maintain power and control over you hapless males.

“I need to believe that you like me and that you want me to fuck you, in order to get off” I don’t deal with extreme delusion/ psychosis; not My kink. Move along.

“You’re just full of yourself. You’ll never be happy like that!!” And..? Would I be any happier as a humble/ kind/ submissive/ meek woman? I think not.

“You sound awful and mean! I don’t like you! I wouldn’t waste my cash on you!!” And that is your prerogative, you dear simple fellow. I agree; go and spend your chump-change on a willing young lady who will at least pretend to like you and care about what you think. Then, at least you can fool yourself that she enjoyed your precious minutes together as much as you did… Enjoy

“Can’t you just be nice for once?! For me??” Why? I don’t think you comprehend this narcissism/ manipulation/ humiliation thing, do you? There is no ‘off’ switch for me.

“What a bitch you are!!” Thank you for your input, but I much prefer ‘Cunt’ (better yet: Cunny); the origin of which meant ‘Queen’ to the ancient Greek civilisation, amongst others, before the meaning got distorted by the wretched patriarchy… Now, go and have a free ‘hate wank’ on My profile pic. Think of My blatant audacity while you’re wiping your worthless seed off your screen. You’re welcome.

“Manipulatrix? Ha! I pay YOU for your service, therefore YOU are my victim. I own YOU for the time I choose to engage you. You HAVE TO cater to my needs, bitch!” I already told you, simpleton, it’s Cunt! Haha. I will permit you to verbally run yourself ragged; ranting wildly; slinging your nonsensical prose and exhausting your last remaining brain cells with your weak diatribe. All the while, I will remain serene- perhaps snacking on some fresh ripe fruit, sipping My rooibos tea, online window-shopping, while I silently half-listen to your mildly-entertaining dick-drivel, patiently waiting until your credits run dry. Do you think you’re My first abusive caller? Or even the best one?! Cute.

“YoU fucKinG biTcH… I wlD eat ur asSholE N maKe u CRY cUmmiNg…” For the last time, it’s CUN… Nevermind. Do I really have to say it? A maggot like you wouldn’t be worth the effort/ energy I would expend in squatting and hovering over your filthy mouth. Having said filthy mouth actually make physical contact with My pristine flesh would also be out of the question. But thank you for the offer though.

“Doing what you do, you must not believe in karma then!” Actually, I do. But I also know how to manipulate spiritual laws so that I avoid any negative consequences. One’s belief system has a lot to do with the effects of certain causes. If someone comes to Me requesting service then it is a fair and equal exchange and there is zero karmic debt to repay in the aftermath (or afterlife!) Even if I happen to have destroyed his self-esteem, bank balance, reputation or relationship in the process.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Friday, July 31st 2020

>> Sadistic New Kink Alert: (Your) Overindulgence!

There have been many points in my life where I’ve made the bold statement: ‘Right, I definitely know who I am now, I know what I like, and that won’t change!’, only to surprise myself almost immediately after… Can you relate? It’s gotten to the point where I’m now completely relaxed about where my mental/ emotional/ spiritual evolution (= growth) will take me, and actually embrace seeing what wonders I’m going to come up with next!

Don’t worry guys, I’m working my way up to the kinky part, stay with me…

Over the last two years specifically, I’ve been on a major health kick and have been detoxing monthly since November 2018. I’ve shed all excess fat (bye-bye boobies and ass!), stripped my diet of nasties, got into a flushing-fasting-purging protocol, and am *pretty much* teetotal (and have been for almost two decades).

However, I’ve quite recently developed a new kink, probably as a result of my regime (and it’s not really a freaky one, sorry to disappoint!)

Note: I strive for excellence, but not perfection - I am human after all, and am prone to a (brief) monthly binge, albeit not a particularly extreme one.

What started as just a curious interest in food videos online turned into a serious obsession with watching people eat. And overeat. I mean seriously GORGE themselves. Mukbang videos, pile-the-plate-ridiculously-high obscene food challenges… I found myself enjoying people (men) feast on the type of cuisine I would never allow myself to have, in vast quantities that my (now) tiny tummy could not possibly ever tolerate. In fact, the more unhealthy the food they consume, the better!

For example, I’m a strict vegan but, I like watching people eat plates upon plates of [food like] sticky barbeque pork ribs, fat-laden meat pies, triple-decker cheeseburgers with mountains of greasy fries. And not because I crave that food. I really don’t. It’s not so much the type of food, as the fact that it’s massively fattening or bad for you that I like.

And, the thought- and sight- of men cramming themselves full, s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g their stomachs beyond a reasonable capacity is strangely erotic for me. Although most people consider it bad manners to eat and talk (it is), I actually like when someone (a feedee/ gainer/ portly piggy/ gannet) calls me with a large plate of sweet or savoury goodies in front of him, and proceeds to stuff his face while we chat. The muffled sound he makes as he struggles to talk and munch, imagining errant crumbs escaping from his mouth- and knowing he’s eating this huge extra snack in my honour- makes this sadistic feeder feel smug and proud.

Note: if you’re going to be chomping during our conversation, soft food- like doughnuts, eclairs, cake or chocolate- works far better than noisy crisps or doritos! Plus the more calorie-dense (ie. naughty) the food the better, as far as I’m concerned!

Whilst I have blogged about feederism before, I’d say my interest in it has been somewhat kicked up a notch since then...

The same with intox- specifically alcohol. I typically have one or two embarrassingly weak, fruity cocktails on holiday each year - if ever. That’s all I can take, and I’m careful to flush it through my system with plenty of water (yes, I am what we call in England a ‘bloody lightweight’). In contrast, I quite enjoy guiding men to get absolutely ‘bladdered’, witnessing their total loss of control and coherency as they fall into a drunken stupor (and sometimes even a drunken slumber!). I guess you could say that my kink is: (other people’s) overindulgence.

As for hypnosis: You fellas often consult with me because you want to be verbally ‘pushed over the edge’ relative to a specific indulgent fetish or fantasy. You either don’t have the courage to realise your kinky dream by yourself and desperately need (female) encouragement, or you simply recognise that your own well-honed logic, reason, and morality (normally external, social conditioning) is getting in the way- preventing you from fully embracing the very thing you love to wank over the most! My role is to open the doorway for you to fully explore and indulge in your kink in a hypnotic bubble of a safe zone- a sublime subspace.

You see, I like to play safe myself. I’m way too vain and health/ image-conscious to let myself go by giving in to countless sweet temptations. I like to maintain a clear mind and body. But, if you're happy to risk punishing your waistline and your liver (amongst other vital organs), I consider myself a more-than-worthy coach for that task! And it means that I kind of get to almost indulge, by proxy, without running any physical risk myself - it’s a win-win!

It’s lucky the body is so relentlessly forgiving and self-regenerating isn’t it? Or most of you would be fucked! Haha. No, seriously. Although I like to s-t-r-e-t-c-h a guys’ limits as much as his waistline, I’m proud to say that no one has ever landed in A-and-E because of my sadistic, unsavoury, amoral antics… Yet (guys: no email reports about this please).

So gentlemen, if you would allow yourselves to overindulge on my behalf, and have me to (over)eat and drink vicariously through you, whilst getting you all levels of fucked up, then roll up, roll up!* I know a couple silly drinking and eating games to get us warmed up... One thing though - please be both well-stocked, and ravenously hungry/ thirsty when you call me!

*A modicum of common sense is required. Know your own personal limits, and never allow a deviant Domme like myself to make you permanently ill. If you have serious heart/ liver/ kidney/ stomach/ intestinal/ brain disorders/ conditions, or are simply a few sandwiches short of a picnic, the above is not advisable. Likewise if you’re currently taking any strong medication. I accept absolutely no liability for the health and wellbeing of another living soul. Contact Me at your own risk!!

Copyright© 2020 - MissBlackPearlUK; Property Of AdultWork.com. All Rights Reserved. You Are Not Permitted To Copy This Text Either Wholly Or In Part. Email Me For Permission To Reproduce.

Friday, July 17th 2020

Banker Bollocks: Beware The Wolf Of West India Ave

I’ve noticed a particular type of guy who’s attracted to me of late. It’s the new-old-new breed of successful, kinky, findom-addict (they say they’re sub[missive], but they’re reeeeeeally not).

This isn’t a tacky promo post to let you know how much of a MASSIVE money-magnet I am. No. In actual fact, I actually turn down (the promise of) money on a weekly, and sometimes daily, basis. I never really believed that “not all money is good money!” (it is), but rather that “not all providers are good providers!” (they aren’t). I’m referring to “paypigs” (or “pay-pets”) as “providers” here, because not all findom- addicts enjoy, or identify with, the piggy moniker. And that’s fair enough.

Some men enjoy using their money as bait, a weapon, a dangling carrot, and/or a honey trap of sorts. Often (vaguely) promising generous amounts of financial support, over extended periods, upfront. Its sole intent is to deceive and manipulate women (mainly FinDommes or sugar-babies) into getting them to submit to their own deviant desires, whilst giving the illusion that they (the women) remain in total control of what takes place. Sometimes the man will even, once he’s formed what he thinks is a relatively-hard-to-break bond, slow down (or cut-off altogether) that financial support- now making her work for it, as he assumes he holds the power (because he owns the wallet). The money should also- apparently- make up for a total lack of character, pleasing personality, or any shred of moral fibre on the mans’ part. Or so they seem to think…

My latest example: I had a call last Sunday from a white London-based Banker (I mention his race for a reason, as you’ll soon discover…). For the purposes of this blog, I’ll call him Mitch.

Mitch, like most men branding themselves ‘a sub’, is purely driven into the depths of submission dependent on how aroused he is in the moment. It isn’t a constant, but rather a fickle and inconsistent, thing. Basically it’s a case of: ‘Dick hard, need to play, will submit to cum!’. And, minutes later: ‘Dick soft, don’t need to play anymore, need to go right now!’. On and off his submission goes, like a light switch flicking. When desperately aroused, he seems to turn into a ‘weak pay pet and cuckold’ (paraphrasing, but basically his words), and thus his brain short-circuits. He then starts talking utter gibberish, totally convinced that he is thinking logically and making perfect sense. When, in fact, it’s as if he’s talking from his japs-eye directly, and not his mouth at all. Except his ‘little mouth’ would probably be more truthful and impressive.

Like most well-educated and successful men, he considers himself a discerning, sophisticated, sapiosexual (ie. a great-fucking-catch). He clearly doesn’t suffer fools in business, and so he very much appreciates a strict, no-nonsense, woman like me, who challenges him at every turn in private. I can only imagine how his cock throbbed and twitched as I verbally chastised him for the bad manners he displayed at various points in both our first and second calls. The little ecstatic moans he let out told me that he enjoyed my verbal lashings, more than he would a cat-o-nine-tails to his saggy, melanin-starved, ass cheeks.

Within mere minutes of our very first call, he asked me if he could take me on a date in London (initially taken aback at his sheer boldness, I said a firm “no”), then, blindly taking it as flirting, he pursued his agenda via personal questions (until I cut him short) to determine how an actual female-led relationship with me might play out. Within that first hour, he asked me if I would consider marrying a sub. Of course, I played along, telling him that I’m open to it. He only ever talked about his needs, and the only questions he asked were had I experienced doing X or Y with subs before, and would I be open to doing Z with him. He never ever directly asked about my likes, requirements, or desires. For any Domme (or woman full stop) red flags would be waving, furiously.

Mitch has an ebony fetish. *eye roll* Of course he bloody does!. That’s ok though, I’m here to thoroughly exploit that ‘kink’. The average privileged white male couldn’t possibly comprehend how unappealing it is for a black woman to hear that (the fact he is only there to satisfy his porn-induced interracial/ ebony fetish, with its deep, dark, twisted, buried roots...) in a regular dating situation. But this is anything other than that. This is purely (his) fantasy, which he’s hoping to turn into fact. He’s a man who has always gotten what he wanted in life. Material success has no-doubt skewed his perception of reality. He firmly believes that everything (and everyone) has a price, and he’s willing to pay it- but only if he is guaranteed to get his needs met.

Whilst I was addressing him, he interrupted me constantly (corrected each time). And, when I asked him a probing question, he would evade it by instead painting an ideal- yet abstract- picture of what he imagined could happen between us when we do eventually meet. It was frustrating to say the least. To Mitch, he’s the prize, and he always will be. At certain points the thin veil of faux obedience slipped, and his vernacular became condescending and demeaning to women. (Do I get a faint whiff of mummy issues here?!) He didn’t much care for the corrections I made to his outdated speech, but he accepted them (outwardly) anyway. Being ‘put in his place’ by me was- apparently- thrilling. He delighted in telling me what I could do to/ with him if I wanted to, expecting me to slide into the well-worn stilettos of his former ebony Domme (absolutely no way).

He even had the gall to say “you could pretend that I’m a white policeman, and you’re taking all your aggression out on me, beating me senseless.” Yes folks, you get the pointed reference there. “No he fucking didn’t!” you say. Yes he fucking did. What a dick. I calmly proceeded to verbally rip him a new asshole. But only after mentioning that, tongue-firmly-planted-in-cheek, I’m currently quarantining in the affluent, leafy, quiet Hampshire countryside, and not the grimy, gritty, damp London streets.

My neighbourhood, my world, simply does not promote protests, looting, statue-smashing or police brutality, thank you very much. If I wasn’t the stereotypical ‘angry black woman’ before our call, I slowly became one. Well done, Mitch!

Goading me never normally works, but somehow he managed to irritate me in just the right way so I'd bite. I can only imagine how this made his under-average penis throb considerably more, as it didn’t stop him from winding me up something chronic for the rest of the hour-long call.

To him, the word “no” only means that he needs to spew a few more ~~bullshit~~ ‘convincing’ sentences before he can get his hotly-anticipated “maybe” (close enough to a “yes” to satisfy)- which in effect means that he wins (what it’s all about to him). His version of submission is him basically laying out what he wants upfront; like describing his ideal four-course menu to brief his private chef, and then expecting to have served on a plate his exact meal requirements, pretty edible flowers and all.

Except, Mitch dear, actual submission doesn’t work like that. Sorry honey bunny.

What a rude awakening I thought I gave him on that first call, laying down the law- as it applies to this EbonyCashDiva.

He was so aroused after I turned him from hungry wolf, into humble sheep, that he praised me highly, before scurrying off, spouting some nonsense about needing to attend to some phantom emergency which had just suddenly come through by email- as they do on a typical Sunday afternoon (I had told him he wasn’t permitted to cum on this call only 1 minute prior, after learning that he was quietly edging without my consent).

I honestly never expected to hear from him again.

Three days later, to my surprise, he called back. My body immediately tensed upon hearing his voice, and my stomach knotted as he said his name (never a good sign). I would never actually meet a man who aroused such a feeling in me, however much cash he offered.

Mitch views the world through his eyes only, cold and unable to empathise or even consider other viewpoints. He works toward his own goals, and the end always justifies the means. He’s definitely NOT a team player. That makes him a shitty sub, but a brilliant banker. We can basically blame the sad state of our economy, plummeting interest rates an’ all, on the Mitches of this country.

That day, he fondly recalled our idyllic first phone meeting as his reason for a much-needed encore. Like any self-respecting, kinky psychopath, he viewed our constant clashing, the cringeworthy awkwardness, and blatant mis-match of desires on our first call as a sure-fire sign that we were not only compatible, but destined to be a kinky sub/Domme couple with a long future. I took a breath, and asked him if he’d sprinkled any white powder on his cornflakes that morning (and I wasn’t talking splenda)- negative.

Despite my calling his pushy behaviour; persistent angling for a meet in the face of my firm refusal (times at least five), “somewhat terrifying” (he apologised, but continued to press me to meet him - a total, and odd, stranger - for a cocktail in the city, post lockdown) he had incorrectly surmised that I must have found him as enchanting as he found me (that white male privilege thing is a daft little bitch at the best of times…).

You see, he confessed that he’d spent a few precious minutes before our second call flicking through my photo album, which had seemingly convinced him that I was his ideal target (as if there is a correlation between boob size and girlfriend potential...). I said ‘target’ on purpose. Every predator pursues their prey. I refuse to be any man’s prey, so ‘target’ will do for this pale wolf.

I consciously allowed him to ‘lure me’ with his shallow compliments, lofty-and-laughable promises of “total submission” and “piles of cash” yet again. To be a good sport, I even displayed signs of softening, offering a few ‘maybes’ along the way. Just as I did this, he got yet another flaming-hot “emergency email” and had to exit the conversation immediately. What a bloody surprise, eh?

He enjoys the cat-and-mouse game, and so do I (on my terms though). I let him give chase, slow down just enough to allow him to catch up to me a little, and then- dick now wilting- he decides to pursue the shiny object in the corner of his eye instead...

Men like Mitch love constant variety, want what they can’t have, and are instantaneously bored if they manage to actually get it. That’s why the ruthless, inconsistent, and fast-paced world of high finance suits men like him. That’s why he’s almost 50 and still single- by choice. That’s why he has (/ prefers) to pay for female company, and always will. That’s why he’s of the unsavoury ‘pump-and-dump’ ilk, that’s best avoided by anyone with brains over the age of 21. That’s why dating him, or having him as a sub/ cuckold- even solely a financial provider is completely out of the question. That, plus his arrogance, rudeness, lack-of-awareness, unpredictability, inability to actually submit... and everything else negative I discerned from our two telephone meetings.

It’s enough to put me off findom forever!

Lately, it’s either the aforementioned type or the random ‘hi!-here’s-my-bank-login-details-take-what-you-want-and-control-my-life-and-spending-completely!!!’ fraud-loving wanker/ numpty whom I seem to be getting in abundance these days. What is going on, guys?!

Ok, storytime/ rant over. Back to work, you ‘orrible lot!

Copyright© 2020 - MissBlackPearlUK; Property Of AdultWork.com. All Rights Reserved. You Are Not Permitted To Copy This Text Either Wholly Or In Part. Email Me For Permission To Reproduce.

Photo image credit: Leonardo DiCaprio as Jordan Belfort in the movie “Wolf Of Wall Street”, courtesy of Paramount Pictures.

Friday, July 10th 2020

Rise Of Pornosexuality Amongst Intimacy-Phobic Men

The Disturbing Rise Of Toxic Pornosexuality Amongst Intimacy-Phobic Men!

Whilst Pornosexuality is (apparently) nothing new, it’s only recently come to my attention.

A middle-aged, single, unemployed, pilot called me from the States the other day, and confessed that he was very confused...

You see, for the past two years, he’s been secretly sucked into a downward spiral of deviant depravity that he can’t see his way out of anytime soon.

His inner conflict was apparent: do I want you (me) to help me break free, or do I want you (me) to encourage me to give in to temptation? We both knew the latter was what the self-saboteur deep within him truly craved. His struggle was this: He considers himself a straight, “normal” man.

However... A mix of curiosity and boredom made him click on a link he’s now (half) regretting clicking on. The link welcomed him into a wonderful world of hyper-feminine shemales and trannies, specifically plastic-barbie-looking ‘fuckdolls’, which seductively lured him in with its bright flashing porn gifs and neon pink suggestive text.

At first he was merely intrigued, clicking on and off the various links to countless related tube sites, where these sissy fuckdolls, and the manipulative HypnoDommes who brainwashed them into transition (via mind control trance), recalled their rapid descent (or ascent, if you prefer) into all things girly, sissy & gay porn.

At first, not only did he have no sexual interest in men, no desire to be penetrated, no sissy tendencies at all, but also becoming a 'girly girl' was totally out of the question. Except, his dick had other ideas... To his surprise, he quickly started to feel intense arousal whilst looking at those images, reading the transformation stories and watching the mind-warping suggestive hypno porn that littered the pages. Arousal rapidly bred an obsession, and that obsession grew to two to three hours a day of non-stop sissy porn consumption.

Fast forward six months, and he’d bought himself his first pair of pink stilettos (he still can’t walk in them yet). Another six months later, he’d taken his first real cock!

And... He LOVED it.

Begrudgingly, he admitted it was “miles better than pussy ever was”. By his admission, he’d always been awkward and anxious with women, and felt he never could please a woman - nor did he feel 100% enjoyment from shagging the fairer sex, so he stopped hooking-up with them all together.

Real life intimacy; the certain vulnerability and risk of rejection that goes along with it, seemed way too high of a price to pay for what was inevitably just a few minutes of (his own) pleasure.

Today, his adDICKtion is admittedly out of control. Lockdown meant that he had to go cold-turkey from what had progressed into a weekly routine of (dressing like a ‘girly girl’ and) taking cock. But at least he still had the other: sissy hypno porn. These niche adult sites started to convince him that real-life sex is messy, yucky, and wholly unnecessary. Why hunt for the real thing, when you can lose yourself (and your shitty problems) in this sexy virtual world, where everything is pretty, pink and perfect?! Instant orgasms abound. No need to speak or interact with another living soul, just dress up, lie back, relax, stroke, and absorb these deliciously intoxicating, subliminal, sissy commands. And so he did.

Before he knew it, my lost and lonely pilot was sinking in this virtual quicksand of sissy trance porn. And apparently the subliminals he hungrily consumed were highly effective, as he felt the mental changes take hold and explored the options of becoming more beta and femme in real-life. He played in ladies lingerie, bought an array of sex toys, looked into getting hormone treatment, and devoured countless more hours of mental conditioning within the comfort of his private subspace.

His virtual community of thousands of pornosexual sissies (none of which he ever speaks to) are spread out onto countless forums around the world- all comparing notes, swapping images, encouraging each other’s progress into ‘total sissydom’, and showing off their own rapid transformations into living barbie fuckdolls.

My pilot struggled to hold a conversation with me on the phone without a distinct level of cringeworthy awkwardness on his part. Why? For the past few months, he hadn’t spoken more than a sentence with anyone, except his mother, and so small talk now felt completely alien. Why? Because Pornosexuality is HIS world now. He wholeheartedly relates to it, identifies with it and it’s giving him sweet solace in these difficult times. It’s both easily accessible and deeply alluring; no one is judging him in his virtual reality life, and no one cares what he gets up to. He can (instantly) overindulge day and night and no one is nagging him about it. And that’s both scary and exciting to him. He’s come to the realisation that he’s “useless” where women are concerned, and so he’s closed that door for good, preferring eternal bachelorhood, confined within his oh-so-safe virtual realm.

So, what does it mean to be pornosexual? And is it really damaging or even dangerous? I would say the former, potentially, yes. Pornosexuality is all-consuming, and could easily signal the end of traditional, human-to-human intimacy as we know it (that’s its goal, after all). It can bring negative consequences that affect others as well, as more and more of the men identifying with this tag happen to be currently ‘trapped’ in sexless marriages or live-in relationships. It could easily warp the mind, as it has started to with my submissive pilot. It could turn men into tech-dependent cyber puppets. It could make men reach for near-impossible aesthetic standards in order to emulate a living barbie doll.

The missing element for me - the one that seems to be the most glossed-over in all the related articles and “porn wins, everytime!” comments I’ve read on this subject (by men, naturally) is: touch. I know it’s not only women who find this so crucial (we love vast amounts of foreplay, after all). Men are tactile creatures too. How can you never, ever crave physical touch from another human being?

Also, this kind of behaviour is likely to make men (sexually) lazy and complacent. Most of the comments from men I’ve seen laud porn (in general) as being “hassle-free”, “no reason to bother doing X in order to cum” etc. Then, you have the undeniably tragic incel & MGTOW crowd, who proudly scream: “I don’t NEED a woman!”- although we all know that even these backward misogynists would jump at the chance to get some actual human pussy (or even cock) if they could actually manage it!

If ever the pornosexuals do decide to get into another real-life intimate relationship again, post their pornosexuality phase, they would surely struggle to make the required effort (assuming they know/ remember what goes where…).

For me, that is where the escort option wins over pornosexuality, hands down. Visiting an escort can keep an otherwise-sexless man ‘on the saddle’ so to speak, so he doesn’t get rusty in-between sexual partners.

We are already living in this bonkers time of social distancing and self-isolation (I’m sure we’ve all heard that x infinity by now). This is no doubt contributing to the apparent rise in (underground) pornosexuality. Is this the convenient and comfortable identity label for every socially awkward, sex-phobic and porn-addicted man to adopt? It certainly looks like it, but I do hope not!

Guys… your thoughts?

Copyright© 2020 - MissBlackPearlUK. All Rights Reserved. You Do Not Have Permission To Copy This Text Either Wholly Or In Part. Email Me For Permission To Reproduce.

Thursday, July 2nd 2020

Domme turns Agony Aunt for Sex & Dating Conundrums

Just take a deep breath, and tell ‘Aunty’ Black Pearl everything, from the very beginning…

I’m thinking back to the time in the late 1990’s when I was barely eighteen, and I was a junior assistant to a German Lifestyle Domme who I will refer to as M. When we met (via an old-school classified newspaper ad, wanting help), she was already in her sixties, and very accomplished in life.

After finishing a successful nursing career in Germany, she was twice-divorced, owned three detached properties (two with swimming pools, one in Spain), a beautiful champagne-coloured Mercedes, and a rotund figure that naturally intimidated men upon sight. She had a certain presence, and being German, she spoke in a very direct manner, no matter who the person she was addressing was, or what title s/he may have held. She was driven, determined, orderly… everything the women in my own family were not, and I very much admired her. When it came to men (in fact, everyone), it was her way or the highway, and she would easily override your opinions and decisions with what she felt was best. Over the 2 years I worked for her, I saw many men (even so-called alpha males) blush under her stern gaze.

I want to point out that the environment that we worked in was not a dungeon, and had nothing to do with domination, but it was a private club, of sorts. M ruled her business affairs with an iron fist in a velvet glove, but she could be very alluring and feminine when she wanted to be. I emulated both her focus and her way with men.

The only real issue M had in life was LOVE. As soon as she fell for a man, she fell apart emotionally. I saw this brilliant, steely-spined woman lose her focus and become all marshmallowy and soft. Second-guessing herself, chasing and checking up on her man… She literally became a teenager again, in spirit. To observe this behaviour in my mentor was both bizarre and unnerving. I was only on my second boyfriend, and was about as clueless as you could be with the denser sex in reality. But my own teenage relationship anxieties paled in comparison with hers. She was often frazzled and fraught with male-related worries, and questioned every move and sentence her beloved made.

The most bizarre thing of all was: she asked ME for advice! Here was a woman, forty-five years my senior, asking a teenager for advice. And not just once, but every working day! Of course, she was mostly using me as a soundboard, never listening to my surprisingly spot-on wisdom and doing her own thing (often the worst move possible) anyway. She never did figure men out, even after devouring dozens of famed self-help books and with my novice coaching in her ear.

You see, I have always been intuitive and mature for my age, and although I didn’t often practice what I preached, I always gave thoughtful, insightful direction. And this formed a pattern throughout the following two decades of my life, by which my elders would often come to me for nuggets of wisdom.

And now, approaching my forties, the younger generation are turning to me for the advice that they can’t get from the people in their lives, and I’m happy to give it. In fact, I feel it’s my calling, and a blessing too. Nothing gives me more pleasure than to be privy to someone’s deepest, darkest, kinkiest confessions, or to hear the hidden desire that they’ve never had the courage to share with a single living soul. It’s a privilege to be the keeper of such secrets, and I don’t take it for granted. I pride myself on my discretion, so whilst I won't give specifics of the advice I’ve been asked for, I will talk about general themes.

Increasingly, men have been coming to me with tales of their frail, fraught, tense, romantic relationships, in which they don’t feel heard by their partners, feel ignored, misunderstood, and would never dream of sharing their true fantasies with her. This is not at all shocking, but somewhat sad.

ALL relationship issues stem from poor (two-way or one-way) communication. It does continue to surprise me though how little men understand about women, even their wives, who they’ve been married to for sometimes five, ten, or even fifteen years plus. I get men asking for advice from 18 to 65+ years old, learning about the fairer sex never seems to get any easier!

What I have observed in men, is that no matter who the man is, how accomplished he is, or his age, the true underlying issue to most sex/relationship problems boils down to one or more of these three things:

*He feels INSECURE about his body and/or sexual performance

*He feels INADEQUATE as a man in some way

*He feels INFERIOR to women and/or other men

Also, I’ve personally found that many men seek validation or approval from a woman for their deviant desires. Having at least one female tell them that they’re okay, and that they don’t need to be ashamed is incredibly healing and soothing for a man (not to get to Freudian about this, but I’m sure you can figure out why...). Whilst I don’t always offer quick-fix solutions, I always guarantee patience and non-judgement (as long as it’s legal!). I have perfected the art of listening (it really is an art!), not just to what is being said, but what is left unsaid. Sometimes there is much more to the story if one is insightful enough to listen carefully and connect with the speaker. Many times I have uncovered dark secrets by daring to delve deeper, and by asking the difficult questions.

In my training as a Hypnotherapist (non-clinical, non-traditional), we were taught that the majority of the work was about asking the right questions and paying attention to the language used in response, whilst in the discovery or preliminary stage of the session (or pre-session), and then we could tailor the hypnotic trance/ therapy accordingly. Those techniques definitely come in handy here!

Therefore, I suppose you could say I also offer a different kind of relief; a mental/ emotional one. Sometimes the release from getting a sordid sex secret sorted, dating drama divulged, relationship riddle rectified or a kinky confession of your chest is better than the most explosive orgasm, or so it seems!

Friday, August 28th 2015

Sordid Submissive Confessions Of An Alpha Domme!

Firstly, do you like seeing me casual, in workout gear? I took this photo post kundalini yoga & quick power walk, when I was all hot & sweaty. Oooh, I bet your thinking about me sitting my BIG BLACK ASS & camel toe (in hot leggings), down on your face, or nuzzling my sweet, sticky cleavage- you dirty bastards! (See my free gallery for more!)

Anyway, I digress… just wanted to let you’ll know that I’ll be getting A LOT more candid with you from now on – 35 must be my age of unabashed FILTH!! ;-)

I’m letting you mucky fuckers hear some of my very own sordid confessions (real life stories)! All of them occurred when I was between the curious, naïve, impressionable ages of 18 & 22 (I’m not talking about myself any younger than that, so don’t even try it…)

You will see them listed at the top of ‘my fetishes’ on my profile, so I won’t bother repeating them here. Many of you will be surprised to see that I am being so open about my own journey, as I am known for being fiercely private. I’ve decided that I will let my loyal followers in on some of the bizarre, embarrassing and downright shocking moments of my life, as you’ve been asking me for years anyway!

None of those events in my past could possibly happen to me now (well, maybe spying on me nude, as I do tend to walk around my flat ‘au naturale’!), as I’m at a completely different stage of my life, and am much more in control of situations and outcomes.

I think the thing you would be most surprised to hear me confess is that I’VE TRIED BEING A SUBMISSIVE MASOCHIST!

Yes, I've tried being the polar opposite of what I am today. Don’t misunderstand: I am not submissive, subservient or passive in any way. But, when I was younger, as intrigued as I was, I wanted to know what it felt like to completely surrender my control to a man. I’ve even tried it with a woman (in a public place, but we weren’t seen).

I tried many times, with Doms, just to see if there was one who could ‘turn’ me (I’m a natural control freak- one of those annoying ones whom is impossible to ‘break’ and who tops-from-the-bottom, so to speak). Not one Dom could ‘scratch the itch’ for me, even ones with over 10 years’ experience. I never fully gave myself to any of those Doms either- mentally or emotionally- as none were worthy. What was curious to me, is that with each one, they only ever spoke about the physical aspects, and the goals they wanted to achieve (basically; standard fucking & cumming- in [up to] 4 different positions, for the adventurous!). But for me, it was never about that. If it was, I would have simply continued to enjoy vanilla sex. No, I wanted to find someone who cared to understand the psychology behind each of MY kinky fetishes (not their own), and mercilessly mind-fuck me, tease me & then ravish me! Therein lies the ultimate thrill.

Instead, each Dom- upon our very first contact online- immediately, and selfishly, trawled out a list of standard fetishes that he expected us to act out when we meet (which typically included- rope bondage, spanking, choking, spitting, slapping, dirty talk, watersports and sometimes anal). It all became mind-numbingly boring to me. Like the ‘50 Shades of Grey’ movie, but ten times more wooden, with ten times less chemistry, and utterly dry & predictable! My enthusiasm for this fizzled out pretty quickly, as you’d imagine. I must say I probably chatted to 80- 100 Doms online and only met 3- all over a period of 4 years. The ones I did meet were ultimately disappointing, but the best of an outstandingly pathetic bunch!

I found most Doms, in person, to be very awkward, clumsy, hesitant, unsure and insecure. How can you have faith in someone being in control of you, when they don’t have faith in themselves? Nothing is a passion or kink- killer more than someone constantly breaking character to ask for your permission (to do the things you’ve already agreed upon) or guidance to take action. And that’s just the point – it was a character for most, a false persona. They weren’t genuinely dominant men, but sheep in wolves clothing. They were nervous, scared little beta boys, whose mothers probably neglected them a little too often 20 years prior. What I wanted was a powerful God of a man, to totally overwhelm me and help me escape- immerse me deep into a land of fantasy, electrifying excitement and mystery. But they were lost, empty, lonely, unconscious souls with mummy issues, desperately trying to be something they weren’t.

Like any lioness, I can smell weakness a mile off, and I devour those weak without a second thought. Mostly, they would end up wanting ME to dominate THEM! The glossy veneer they upheld didn’t last too long… They each saw in me – at a young age – something I hadn’t yet discovered myself – that I am a born leader, a natural alpha, and a Goddess.

I hadn’t yet recognised my own inner strength or power, and at the time I wasn’t ready to display this either. But, I did learn – by default – what NOT to do. Domination has little to do with shouting- unless shouting is the submissives’ fetish, of course. The loudest person doesn’t win. None of those Doms would’ve had a hope-in-hells-chance of dominating anyone with the physical aspect removed either. And, none of them could have even acted those things out physically, unless they were desperately horny. Therein lies the stark difference between us. I AM, therefore, I don’t need to ACT. I can whisper and be dominant. I can be silent and be dominant. I don’t need a whip or rope either. My dominance doesn’t change with my mood, or environment, or anything else. Yes, I can act as well if inspired, and quite enjoy role-playing.

Nowadays, my best experiences are with submissives who:

**Know their own mind and exactly what they want/ enjoy

**Give me full disclosure upfront about fantasies, expectations & limits

**Know exactly what they can offer me, and are clear about it

**Dedicate all of their time and energy to me, in the present moment

**Are conscious, consistent and concise in their communication

**Are happy for me to control the process, by drilling deep into their minds, uncovering their true desires- exposing & exploiting them completely…

So anyway, after a while of dabbling in submission, I actually trashed the silly notion that I could submit to a man, and went back to ‘equal’ vanilla relationships. Little by little, my dominance started to display itself in many small ways. Within a few years, I could effortlessly take a man who considered himself alpha (I was attracted to those men anyway), and ‘break him’ completely within a couple of dates, so that he became a totally smitten and subservient beta bitch to me (if he wasn’t from the get-go). Then I would instantly tire of him, use him as my doormat briefly, and then swiftly move on. If he hung around regardless, I usually cheated on him with someone more exciting. I did this unconsciously at first, and NEVER met any man who could equal me. I don’t say this with pride, but with total awareness. This type of behaviour cannot sustain a long-term relationship. This is not me projecting into the future, but peering into the past. I’ve grown up massively.

But, luckily for you, I’m now going to divulge all of the filthy, sweaty, sticky, slutty details I left out here to anyone who really wants to know!

SIDE NOTE: I must add to that list, that I was a camel-toe queen, before I ever heard the term! I had a penchant for wearing tight leggings, and with fat, swollen, fanny flaps such as mine (crass, I know), the material can’t help but get sucked up there- like a vacuum’s glued to it! For those of you with that particular fetish, I’m happy to show you or tell you more about it…

Finally, for anyone who is around this WANK Holiday weekend, you’ll be glad to know that I’ll be staying safely off the streets on Carnival day, and may be bumping & grinding my ass on cam instead! I may even play some Caribbean music (soca, calypso)- I’m not really a fan of it, but I’ll get in the spirit. Maybe, if I’m in the mood, I might show you how we West Indians ‘wuk-up’ or ‘dutty-wine’ – the real, raw version of the American ‘twerking’ phenomenon that is so mainstream right now with you - our Caucasian cousins!

Friday, August 14th 2015

BIRTHDAY, BUSH, BOOBS & BOSSIER THAN EVER!

BIRTHDAY, BUSH, BOOBS & BOSSIER THAN EVER!

Just in case you haven't realised... IT'S MY BIRTHDAY NEXT WEEK!!

Thank you, thank you. Nothing says "happy birthday" like tips & gifts!

Anyway, I'll be turning 35, and I'm feeling more sexy, more feminine, more intuitive and more powerful than ever! (I know, I don't look a day over 34 and a half...)

I'm absolutely loving this period of my life. I know myself, I'm better able to express my needs, relate to others... Just better all round!

Add to that - for you visual perverts - my boobs seem to be still growing! (That hooked you back in, didn't it?!). I don't know how it's possible, but I think my body thinks I'm still in another stage of puberty. I'm feeling more sensual, and erotic, I'm more aroused more often, and my boobs are spilling out of my bras! (Check the gratuitous cleavage photo - as if you haven't already...)

The odd thing is- I'm much less inclined to wear bras at all these days! I prefer to let them 'swing free' and love embracing naturism on a warm day (in the comfort of my own home, of course).

I also decided to (temporarily) ditch the razor, and become a hirsute Goddess! That's right, the bush is back! For a limited time only, my shaggy rug will be poking out the sides of my panties! Yeah, I'm a wild 70's hippy chick this month. My armpits have a soft, kinky, little black bush appearing too. I know some of you will be horrified at that, and some aroused- but just remember- this is natural, and I couldn't care less what anyone thinks of me anyway!

I'm extremely fickle, with a low boredom threshold, so no doubt, all the hair will be gone by the time my birthday rolls around. But, I the meantime, if you want to adore my hairy bits, you can book me for a sesh!

On another note, another thing which is growing with age, is my ability to captivate, control, and command men. It was always easy to me, but I seem to be developing even more allure & seductive quality in my mid-thirties. Those of you magnetically drawn to me will absolutely relate to what I'm referring to here. It seems, the more I'm myself (brutally honest to the point of cruel, forthright, demanding, bossy & bold), the more men seem to like it.

Girls of my generation were taught to be demure, almost like the damsel-in-distress type lady. Well, that never felt right to me, and the more I rebelled against this false notion, the more I was liked and respected. There is something about being authentic & genuine that absolutely seduces people.

It must be the effect my advancing age, but I'm attracting a heck of a lot of 'mummy's boys' & 18-28 year olds at the moment! I can't figure out if they want a mature lady to boss them, or they imagine suckling at my bosom!

I must admit, I'm relishing being the seductive older woman, who leads naughty boys astray! They know I'll be one to finally whip them into shape (so to speak). I wont be a walk-over like their mothers were. I wont praise them, think for them or pander to their needs. I'll get those filthy fantasies & desires out in the open. I may even encourage them! Under my direction, they may be 'broken' initially, but they will eventually blossom into a 'real man'...

Are there any naughty boys or mummy's boys reading? PRESENT YOURSELF!

(Remember... It's my birthday! Did I mention it already?)

Friday, July 24th 2015

Calling All Foot Fetishists, Shoe Sluts & Fuckers!

As you perverts know, GoddessMissKelly and I are currently meeting a lucky few well-mannered masochists for some well-deserved wallet abuse in Central London. But, you may not have realised that GMK & I are also foot & shoe worship Queens with a penchant for beautiful designer shoes!

So, bitch boys, shoe sniffers & foot enthusiasts- imagine being the chosen one to not only adorn our beautiful feet with outrageously expensive shoes, but being gifted our well-worn old pair for your personal shoe-porn collection!

I know many of you shoe fetishists love to smell, lick, and even fuck a pair of fragrant shoes on occasion! Imagining you poking your little willies in my sweaty peep hole shoe until you explode, and then licking your mess out, makes me chuckle heartily! Just this week, I had two such foot lovers call my wankline, and profess their undying love for my size 7 pale soles, high arches and suckable toes.

My partner in findom & femdom, Goddess Miss Kelly, is blessed with- perfectly pedicured- size 3 feet! As you can see from our photo – her sexy wedges could easily fit a Disney Princess! Take a moment to fantasise about shopping for the perfect stilettos or boots to fit her dainty feet, and just try not to salivate!

Many of you foot sluts & shoe fuckers know where you belong- down on the ground, head bowed & begging for mercy, at the heavenly feet of two strict alpha Queens!

Now is the time to make your ultimate foot fantasy a reality…

Sunday, July 5th 2015

Femdom Duo “The Bitches Of Bond St.” Turn Heads!

“Summertime, and the living is easy…”

...That is, if you’re two elite diva dominatrices, who have joined forces to take down the men of central London!

As you may have heard on the internet grapevine, Great British Dominatrix GoddessMsKelly & I are a delectable dominant duo this summer- for discerning beta males only, naturally.

If you have been fortunate enough to be accepted to serve Goddess Miss Kelly before, you will know that her perfectly petite figure also contains a most powerful punch of alpha female!

We met for shopping & cocktails last Friday, during which, we managed to cause quite a stir on busy South Molton Street & New Bond Street.

As Wimbledon was in full swing, many guys were casually sipping their Pimms on the faux lawn on the sunny pavement- with their girlfriends- whilst watching the tennis matches. Even that didn't stop their heads turning & eyes lingering longingly at us as we browsed the designer boutiques!

Even the burly security guard in Victoria’s Secret did a double take as we glided by- maybe he had served us on Adultwork before!

Perhaps one sunny afternoon soon, you may be fortunate enough to trail behind this glamorous femdom duo & carry our shopping bags!

Thursday, June 25th 2015

GENDER BLENDING & THE FEMINISATION OF THE MALE!

GENDER BLENDING & THE FEMINISATION OF THE MALE!

It’s been a very long time since I put up a blog, but something has come to my attention recently. I was in a vanilla group last night with 5 other ladies and one man (nothing sexual, I assure you). The male of the group made an interesting comment, which sparked some discussion amongst the ladies. He proclaimed that there is overwhelming evidence to suggest that the male of the species is now either suppressing their masculinity (perhaps having it forcibly suppressed- by chemicals & pesticides in food etc. - if you subscribe to popular conspiracy theories, this is part of a huge AGENDA!) or naturally evolving into being whose femininity dominates & overrides. And in some cases, even arriving at gender neutrality.

Now, you may know that all beings have both masculine and feminine within them, and in most people that is balanced accordingly. Males have a majority of masculine hormones & women have a majority of feminine hormones. What we’re seeing now is more of a mix, and a leaning towards the feminine in men. Traditional male characteristics are seen as (broadly, and basically) primarily aggression, logic, reason, fact, and thought-based reasoning (left-brain traits). Female characteristics are more nurturing, feeling, emotion, intuition, creativity, and heart-centred reasoning (right-brain traits).

Whether you believe in the spiritual philosophies or not, the fact is that our Mother Earth has now evolved into an Aquarian/ 5D/ New Earth age. You can see this change reflected in the fact that more women are taking leadership roles, and men are taking more of a back seat, or supportive role. More women are becoming the bread-winners in their households, and buying property, and even having babies (almost) independently (this has never happened in such a huge shift in history before). The next President of the United States will be a woman. This has been in the making for decades, and now is finally seen as a good time for this to happen. Society is encouraging more right-brain thinking, feeling & action (collaboration, intuitive reasoning, different ways of expressing etc.). Even science supports these theories (do your own research- it's on the world wide web).

More and more men are telling me that their boss is a woman. Women no longer feel the need to try to adapt to living in a “mans’ world”, instead men are struggling to adjust to living in a womans’ world. ALPHA FEMALES ARE ON THE RISE!

The most interesting thing for me, in the world of BDSM and domination is this: the prevalence of men who want me to nurture/ approve of/ encourage/ tease out their natural femininity is overwhelming! This is increasing on a daily basis! If I were to analyse the trends, I would say that there is a huge (maybe 50-70%) percentage increase in men who have fantasies about gender-bending, trans-females, bisexuality, sissification, feminisation, cross-dressing, cuckolding, chastity, and as extreme as becoming eunuchs (to name but a few fetishes). Some men are coming to me to learn how to think, talk, and act like a lady! I may soon offer a service where I provide this training on line & in person.

Many previously “100% straight” and even outright homophobic men are now developing a strong curiosity about homosexuality. But, it’s not always sexual. Some men from the aforementioned category still want to have sex with women exclusively (if they can manage…), but want to become more like a feminine “big sister”, or a subservient (normally cuckold) “pet” to their wives and girlfriends. They are happy for their partners to take the lead in the relationship and they enjoy taking direction. They may also be aroused by watching their partners be intimate with other men. This is most common in men with small penises (less than 6 inches, fully erect).

We are also seeing a huge increase in men (and, to a lesser extent, women) in the media who are choosing either gender-neutrality (androgyny) or to become women (with the help of hormones, surgery). This is an extremely brave choice in a world which is only just becoming accepting of this. We still have a generation or two to go before this is seen as the new “normal” (whatever that is…).

There are many men who insist they are absolutely masculine & straight, and always will be. To those men, I’ll ask these questions:

*Is there a homo-erotic curiosity that you are suppressing or denying?

*Do you fantasise about dressing in lingerie/ wearing make-up, sucking cock, or being fucked with a strap-on/ real dick?

*Do you have a [secret] folder of gay porn links on your computer?

*Do you get enjoyment or arousal from being controlled or dominated by a woman?

*Do you dream of being locked in chastity, or having your genitalia removed completely?

I bet you at least answered “maybe” to one of the above!

No judgement from me… I absolutely delight in encouraging you to accept and explore the inevitable! It’s fast becoming my favourite topic. Even though I've barely skimmed the surface here, feel free to talk to me about it via IM, SMS, phone or cam.

Happy fantasising!

Friday, November 30th 2012

Mistress Banks Subs' Xmas Bonus- For The 2nd Year!

Last night, I received a deposit in my online account of exactly £2,345. In the reference field, it said simply "Xmas bonus, Love Graham". Oh, how I laughed out loud!! I haven't even spoken to him for the past 2 months! I do love receiving unexpected cash...

For the last 15 months, I have been dominating Graham, who is one of my occaisonal pay pigs, amongst his other fetishes. Graham works hard as a senior manager in an Insurance firm, and earns a decent salary. He tells his long-suffering wife Janice, that he earns £10k less than he actually does. For the second year in a row, he's claimed to her that the company has stopped giving out the 5% bonus she had looked forward to the last Thursday in November, blaiming "financial cutbacks" in the department. This is all bollocks of course.

You see, Graham is addicted to financial domination with his greedy, spoilt Mistress (Moi), and that extra £10k a year feeds his fetish rather nicely. His annual bonus he gifts me, as he puts it -

"Mistress Ebony; You, Goddess, deserve to spend my money on luxuries, not my flat-chested bitch wife".

I couldn't have put it better ;)

Every time he tributes, he reports that the thrill has him wanking furiously for days after. The 'natural high' he receives is like no other, apparently. Boring missionary sex with his frigid wife comes no where near to spending his wages on his Mistress.

In fact, last December, I very much enjoyed my week long pampering at Champneys Spa with Grahams' Xmas bonus. This year... How will I choose to spoil myself? It is at this moment, undecided.

What I know for sure is, as Xmas approaches, Grahams isn't the only Xmas bonus I'll be receiving.... I also know, that for at least one aspiring pay pig, December 2012 will be the month you FINALLY give into to the ultimate addiction and thrill, and submit to Mistress Ebony.

Remember: you wank, I BANK. It's the natural order of things.

Saturday, August 11th 2012

Desperate Dick-Starved Damsells Deserve Drilling!

Just an observation here: Do you notice how many ladies here on AdultWork are absolutely ravenous for a good hard fucking? Why isn't it so in your normal, everyday lives?

Imagine if every lady you came into contact with was so upfront and up for sex? Imagine too if every lady you met spoke only in sex talk! At the petrol station, at the post office, at the bank; every single female would be seductively licking their lips at you at the counter, and then summoning you into the backroom store cupboards for some 'hot, horny action'. And told you explicitly what they want to do to your 'massive, hard, throbbing cock'.... Sounds like the stuff of your fantasies, doesn't it?

Roleplay is a favourite of mine, and is a welcome departure from the average, standard, and frankly, dull. Humans love routine, but variety really IS the spice of life.

Challenge the next lady you session with (on the phone) to design a tailor-made roleplay scenario where she is the girl next door, or the ticket collector on a deserted train, or someone regular, with that overwhelmingly instatiable appetite for dick! Desperate to fall to her knees and worship that cock with her plump, glossy lips

Or perhaps tease you senseless in public, until you make a sticky white mess in your pants! Haha... I love the thought of that- tease & denial is a particular favourite of mine. To me, the joy of watching a man lose complete control of their 'member' (big or small) is priceless...

Anyway, enjoy the dick-hungry damsells here, all desperate to be drilled by YOU; and when you tire of the regular, come and visit my virtual boudoir....

Saturday, July 28th 2012

Ebony Hypno-Tits! Stare Into My MASSIVE Cleavage!!

By far, the feature I am most complimented on (daily; hourly) is my beautiful silky chocolate cleavage. I admit I am an exhibitionist, and I do like to tease men with my big bouncy rack!

There is nothing more freeing than letting my natural 36E tits out for an airing. I enjoy, both men and women, staring & talking into my cleavage and generally getting 'lost' in them!

I enjoy wearing silky or satin blouses to the office which are perhaps a size too small around my bust; knowing that my massive erect black nipples are straining against the material, and that the outline of them are clearly visible to all. I enjoy the fact that if I stand over my male staff, them sitting down, their face is likely to be lined up squarely against my boobs. If I am leaning over them to show them a document on the pc, even better. They tend to comply and do exactly as I ask without hearing the details of the request; all because they are salivating over my impressive jugs. I enjoy the fact that at the same time, their erect penises are straining against their suit trousers...

I'm told that there is nothing quite like ebony skin all greasy and shiny; and I have to agree! My tits all oiled up is truly a sight to behold. I know many a man has been titnotized simply by watching my slow seductive oil tit massage live on camera while they stroke their cocks.

I like to play peek-a-boob with a burlesque style sensual striptease of my upper half, keeping a man on the edge of his seat, drooling on his keyboard, transfixed and unable to focus on anything or anyone else. Once I finally get my beautiful clear & blue swirled glass dildo out and slide it up between my slippery tits, you may even forget your own name...

TITNOSIS --

Now, you are relaxing completely... Your limbs feel heavy, yet you're as light as a feather. You're warm, comfortable and undisturbed. In a moment you are going to count backwards from ten to one.. Ten black nipples, nine black nipples, eight black nipples, seven...

Wanna play? Private cam with me IS the ultimate ebony TIT-FEST!

MissBlackPearlUK -AKA- Mistress Ebony -AKA- EbonyMoneyMistress