you warned me : the session starts before the session.
When ? This is a difficult question to answer.
One could argue that it begins before you even dare to write to you to request a first meeting with you., Madame. But at what precise moment does this decision take shape? ? Perhaps during the emotions I felt while admiring you on your ad or those experienced after, reading the refined and disturbing details of your site, or even after, feeling tensions in my lower abdomen hearing the whispers of the Ferule.
Never mind, basically. Whatever the moment, a perverse chemistry pushed me one day to make my mailbox appear on my computer, and I knew I had no choice, that I no longer belong to myself, or more completely. I could only write the application you demand, without giving up, sans excuses, without return.
You must then measure, Madame, how this grip is your first resounding victory, even if you couldn't know it at the time. Writing to a mistress-wife such as you amounts to breaking many moral taboos and violating social rules that I usually respect.. However, I did not hesitate. And I even longed for my request to succeed, because if I experienced an unknown pleasure in forming the words of the email on my keyboard, she is not enough, and many, in itself to satisfy the appetite for enjoyment at the origin of my approach. On the contrary, it fed it and I only considered it as the means to reach the sublime place., that is to say at your feet.
So I wrote carefully, since your demands are high, and that I was aware of being only a submissive novice among others. Knowing your yoke is a privilege to conquer. I was weighing every word, each phrase, all my formulations for one purpose : don't displease you too much, so that I can get a favorable response. I reread myself and reread myself again. Then, finally, unhappy with the result but unable to produce another, and trembling (of fear or pleasure ?) to arouse your contempt or much worse, your indifference, I clicked.
The die is cast.
JM's testimonial.
