It was with a little trepidation that I approached the subject of a session with a professional mistress. I’m not a complete novice at this, but for more than twenty years now I have had relationships that allowed me to indulge my foibles. I knew that the prospect was not without the potential pitfalls common to any form of arrangement of this type.
I saw Domina Liza’s very attractively set out and informative site. Like most aficionados of BDSM I had my own particular ideas of what I wanted. But I did not wish to go down the road of setting out a menu to be followed that I rather feel turns the tables of power exchange and has the potential to destroy the spontaneous authenticity of any session. Naturally initial impressions are based upon the images presented and, certainly from my point of view Liza’s slim, athletic figure and natural elegance combined with her incredibly erotic black leather outfits made her a natural choice.
So I booked a ninety minute session for a Sunday lunchtime. A time normally spent either out walking, or if the weather is inclement with the Sunday Times and a continuous supply of coffee. The distance between us was not a small, a three hour drive each way, but I reasoned that there was no point settling for someone closer if they could not provide the quality that I desired. I filled in the form and sent an e mail giving rough details of what I sought, but stressing that in my case it was important that she took control and steered the session in the direction of her choice, I needed to feel her power driving things.
I need not have worried. We had a short talk on my arrival and then I was invited upstairs to her well appointed dungeon, told to undress and place my clothes in the corner. Mistress, dressed in skin tight black leather jeans over amazing stiletto heeled boots and a matching leather bodice fixed me, spread eagled to her overhead hoist. Moving behind me she selected a leather flogger and proceeded to warm my upper back with a continuous stream of strokes, before moving onto a single tail whip. The whip was more challenging, painful but also pleasurable. The strokes were delivered in a sufficiently purposeful manner that the marks have just faded after five days. Not so the next strokes. I was strapped face down across her leather whipping bench and Mistress chose a cane from her well equipped rack. I was aware of her walking around me, flexing the weapon. Each of her steps on the wooden dungeon floor adding to the tension.
She announced that she likes numbers, and that I would receive twelve strokes. These were delivered moderately hard to the area just above the top crease of my thighs. I think towards the end of the twelve I began to squeal a little. Then she paused and declared that a second twelve would follow. I think that the strokes came a little harder this time, but expertly spaced to achieve the desired effect. Once again my little squeals of pain and pleasure punctuated their execution. Now a third dozen was promised. Again I think slightly more firm than the preceding strokes. Mistress informed me that I would look back on these with the wish that I had taken them harder still, of course she was correct in this. The cane marks are still distinct after five days, a delightful area of purple that is just starting to fade.
I had admitted my apprehension at the thought of electric shocks, delivered by an e stim machine. This is where Mistress’ experience really shone through as she imperiously took charge. I was tightly strapped down on my back on her rack. The heavy leather straps effectively bound my arms closely to my body so I was totally unable to move. The terminals were attached to my testicles and Mistress stood over me, the control box in her hands. At low levels one wonders if anything is happening, then the little pin prick sensations begin. Gradually they increase in intensity until each one feels as if a pin is entering the flesh. Strangely to relate this is a pleasurable experience and one that I would not have tried had I not encountered this remarkable lady.
The session finished with Mistress standing on my body, tormenting me with her stiletto heels, pushing the slim, elegant heels into my mouth for me to suck. This concluded our session, the hour and a half had flashed by. Once back downstairs we chatted as I drank my coffee before heading off. When I got home a whole day had passed. It was by no means a cheap experience but nevertheless one which I would regard as money extremely well spent, and one that I will undoubtedly repeat in the not too distant future.