I haven’t updated my blog in a very long time for a variety of reasons. Sometimes it takes a big life event to make me want to share my thoughts. The news I received yesterday counts in that regard: I found out that my beloved slave and client mucous had passed away. I feel compelled to share about him. There was a part of his life that no one else knew about it. I want it to live on.
mucous was a single gay man without a partner or children. Yes, I said gay. We met due to his sexual orientation and the AIDS crisis of the 80s. He told me that he started to see Pro Dommes because he still wanted to experience penetration, but he didn’t want to take the risk. He was also very big into humiliation. Dominatrices were a perfect fit to scratch the itch he felt inside his mind.
He started seeing me way back in 1999. I was a Baby Domme back then and I really didn’t know all that much. Humiliation was an area of my work that was challenging for me. I know now that it was due to a lack of communication from potential clients, but I digress. mucous made it so easy. He was a small Southern man and the joy he experienced from what I did to him was always apparent: he would laugh when he felt pain or shame. There really isn’t a better combination for a submissive and a Dominant female. I do something to you. You laugh. I think that’s funny. I do something more to you. You laugh more. Wash. Rinse. Repeat!
Over the years, mucous’ interests evolved. He truly embraced what is now my core value: Making me happy is the Number One slave pursuit. He did not have a foot fetish, but he learned to love my feet. He was not into nipple torture, but he became addicted to the sensation. His humiliation desires took even more creative turns: he would bring accessories to our sessions like a pig mask.
I feel fortunate that we were able to capture many of our best times together on video. For a few years, his birthday was immortalized for the camera as I beat him with one cane stroke for every year of his life. mucous started seeing me in his mid-50s so you can do the math about how much caning ensued! He also thoroughly enjoyed having his genitals beat with a paint stirrer. This simple activity was something else we made clips of together.
For the last hour of every session, mucous and I would share during our downtime. It was then that I began to learn exactly how interesting he was. This process didn’t begin in earnest until the last decade, but I’m certainly happy it did. He told me about his early days as a gay man. Of how he had a “Gay Mentor” who showed him the ropes of hook ups. How this man would go to bars and parties with him to indicate who was interested in mucous’ attentions. Of how he would do many things, but he would never allow himself to be tied up…
mucous grew up in a small town in Louisiana, but he spent his formative years in Texas. It fascinated me to hear of the debauchery that took place in such a Conservative part of the country, long before I was alive! He told me how, as a teenager, he would walk to the library in the early evening hours. How there would ALWAYS be a car that pulled up slowly beside him, and then turned the next corner. How that car would stop and wait with the passenger side window rolled down. How he would approach the vehicle and the man inside would motion for him to join him. Of how he was humiliated and forced to suck cock–and how he loved every minute of it!
He was also a world-traveler. mucous went on a Big Trip many of the years I knew him. He once sent me a photo from the ruins of an ancient whorehouse in Turkey. The admission barrier was the outline of a footprint in the entryway stone. If your foot wasn’t bigger than that, you could not go inside. mucous’ small foot was nestled deep inside in the impression. His comment was, “I guess I wouldn’t have been able to enter, lol.”
mucous was very generous. The gifts he sent me were treasured and useful. From the ten pairs of shoes he once sent me, to the drip irrigation kit that is responsible for my marvelous garden–he was thoughtful and specific in that regard. He would also bring back tokens from his travels. His trip to Egypt saw him arrive with essential oils that he anointed my feet with later in session.
There are many clients who have seen me over the years, but very few have had his track record. For eighteen years we spent time together every quarter. I am truly saddened at the loss of this great human being in this world. May his memory live on in our videos together. mucous, The Laughing Slave shall not be forgot!