My dominance. It’s dark. It’s rich. It’s complex. It has layers of flavor and texture and emotion, all so tangled up in each other. A scene isn’t a “scene”. Playing isn’t “play”.  This is our whole existence now.  I  know you inside out, heart, soul, brain, body, every single fibre of their being.

I am your Domme and I take my job very, very seriously. I spend a lot of time getting to know who you are, what you’ve gone through in your life, what your submission looks like… and, what it doesn’t. I need to know not just what all your boundaries are, but why you have them. I want to poke around in all the dark corners of your brain, and see what you have hiding back there, behind all of the cobwebs. I want to look at all of your carefully constructed walls and then take them apart, piece by agonizing piece. I want raw, brutal, unfiltered honesty. I want to see the you that you don’t show the rest of the world. I want to push your limits and show you that you are much more than you think you are… that you are capable of more, that you can give me more.

When we are “playing”, I am not catering to an audience. I don’t see, hear, smell or taste anyone but you, in those moments. Sometimes, I will take more than you were willing to give. Sometimes, there will be demands made of you that you don’t think you’re capable of meeting. I want to leave you shaken, torn, emptied… and then slowly put the pieces back. Not where you had them, but where I want them to be, because they are my pieces, now.  I want you to be satisfied with your experiences.  I want  you to glow inside, knowing that you are mine and mine alone.

There is an overwhelmingly violent attraction to your vulnerability. It makes me lick my teeth and eye you like my last meal. It makes me want to both devour you and nurture you. It’s a terrible duplicity that leaves me vulnerable, too.

Intimacy colours everything. I am completely and utterly in love with you and while sometimes, it’s terrifying, it’s completely worth it.  I can barely remember what my life was like before I met you.  What I was like.  I feel like me now.

I very much enjoy the softer, more sensual play lately, as I’ve gotten to know you over the past year. It’s something I like to dabble in more and more frequently.  Using and teasing your body, moulding and shaping you into what I want.  It’s almost an art form.  I think there is merit in it… in playing to someone’s sexuality, in surprising them with moments of intense pain instead of overwhelming them with it… in handfuls of hair and dark whispers.  I enjoy nothing more than watching you writhe and squirm and moan.  I love knowing that I’m responsible for your extacy, your loss of control.

I smile and add it to the list of things I enjoy doing with you. It’s a surprising revelation to me. I am not soft and gentle.  I’ve never been described as that.  I’ve been described as intimidating, but never gentle. We’ve grown together, you and I.