Cropping

Inasmuch as Professional dominatrix, I refuse to be dictated to my conduct and the content of my sessions : who, When, comment, it's me who chooses. An obvious fact worth reminding to some “submitted” who try to fix their conditions, which amounts to a refusal on my part.
BDSM games are not, in my view, than tastier. The proof with this testimony.

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First of all, I would like to reiterate my apologies regarding my insistence on Tuesday. I sometimes have a very specific idea/desire and I can be tempted to want to impose it. The reframing of the first minutes of our meeting was very clear and explicit. I have never experienced or felt this before, the feeling that everything could stop suddenly, to lose everything and leave as I came without having had the most beautiful DS experience of my entire life. Because yes that’s the case…
I won't be tempted to start again, maybe suggest, never insist again, especially since the rest of our meeting proved you entirely right.

When I called you at 9 p.m., I was very pleasantly surprised by the softness of your voice.
By knocking on your door, after following the instructions, I heard your light footsteps approaching the door, take then put on your pumps before opening. Your charm was already taking effect..
Entering, I had my breath taken away by the power of your gaze, your attitude which exudes so much, which creates an atmosphere, the correctness of your makeup.
When reframing your words were harsh and you exuded such strength that it forced obedience. I no longer knew what to do or think or look or breathe, I hesitated between running away or throwing myself at your feet to ask for your forgiveness. In the background, I only had one desire, that of obeying to try to make me forgive. So I suffered your words which sought to demean me, put myself back in the submissive place, to bare myself (maybe the hardest moment for me) accepting your gaze straight into my eyes, undress myself step by step according to your instructions to find myself thus naked, of body and mind under your scrutinizing gaze, under your judgment. Free to belong to you.

A shower to recover from these first emotions then I timidly knocked on the door. I was afraid of coming face to face with you again, afraid because the cage was poorly placed, afraid of what was going to happen, afraid of the fate you have in store for me, to me the one to whom you almost wrote “You’re annoying me”…
and I was allowed to enter.

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