Tell me what you need.
I love that I get to be a cocktease Mistress everyday, and it all started way back when.
It’s at the heart and root of who and what I am, after all. When you dig down into the real meat of the reality of Harper, you find a cocktease and denial Queen who just loves to make men whimper and cry. I suppose it started way back in grade school, when I’d tell the boys I’d sit with them at lunch if… Oh, that “if”. So many possibilities, and so much raw power. In high school I had an entire cadre of pimply faced loosers eager to do my bidding, and in college the co-eds and frat boys alike just flocked around me.
I still remember it like it was yesterday: my first kinky munch, and my first inkling that I was going to be such a cocktease Mistress!
Imagine, if you will, your typical seedy college town coffee shop. The couches all sagging, springs sprung and cushions flat. Pretentious art on the walls, and that special slightly burnt coffee bean smell of the hopeful small batch coffee roasting operation. A younger version of me sitting on one of those sprung cushioned couches while an older male dominant tries to pull my hair and get me to sigh longingly. Instead, I pulled against his grip, straightened my spine, and turned to look him right in the eyes. “Is this supposed to do something other than piss me off?”
I suspect it’s been my destiny all along to be a world class badass cocktease Mistress.
That older man let go his grip on my hair so fast you’d have thought I’d burned him. He laughed, uneasy, and said “This one’s not submissive.” And it was true then and true today. Not submissive, not me, no. I may switch from time to time, for the right person, but I’m not naturally submissive at all. I like to be in charge, I like to take control, I love to tease cocks and make boys cry. The harder you are, the more power over you I have, and that’s just the way I like it.
I’m a cocktease Mistress.
Born and bred, raised to be strong in the tradition of strong Southern Ladies from time immemorial. A cocktease because it amuses me, a Mistress because nothing less will work for me. I will tease your cock, your mind, your soul, and you’ll let me, drawn like a moth to a flame and eager to burn your little wings off in the incandescence of my brilliance. Yes, you can stroke for me, but no, you don’t get to cum. Not yet, not for a good long eternity.
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