Preston and Manchester Mistress - Madame Margi - Reviews Page 16
The Experience of "R" - 2007/10/18
I feel so honoured that my Mistress mentioned me in her diary and used me as an example of a slave who's learning to trust. Mistress isn't exagerating when she says that she pushed me to my limits, it wasn't playing, it wasn't false and it did hurt - but it was wonderful.
Before the session began, we sat talking - as we always do - and intimacy and honesty emerged. She'd unbuttoned the top of my shirt and was playing with my right nipple, and very quietly she whispered "I've decided I'm going to be very firm with you".
The look in her eye showed that she would be, but the look in her eye also left me with no doubt that she is the right mistress for me. I had no doubts about her, and as I always do I thought to myself "just live for this moment".
Once collared I am hers; a peace desends on my soul, because I know I am in the best possible place I could hope to be.
I can't really do justice to the telling of what she does with me, save she gently relaxes me, and starts to peel back my cares, then she starts.
When she torments me, she does so with unerring accuracy. She's proud of her accurate pain, it's not about breaking a slave, but stretching the slave. If she'd taken my submission the way she did last time, the first time we met she would have broken me, but each time we meet, she leads me just that little bit further. No compromise is wanted, for she dictates events and her judgement of me is all, and welcomed, and needed.
And on being stretched, really stretched I become lost for words. A gag is a joy, for it would stop me introducing the unecessary complication of words - a concept that can't really do her justice. My body speaks, my moans and whympers extole more eloquently what I really feeling, experiencing.
She singed one clamped nipple with a just extingushed match tip. My back arched, my gasp was real. But in the time it had taken her to strike the second, I was craving for her to do the same to my other clamped nipple. I wanted, desperately wanted for the pain to be repeated.
I was wispering, "do, do"; but my eyes would tell her what I felt, better than any words.
This is just one event in a roller coaster of feelings and emotions, that left me not drained, but in beloved chastity and just so inspired to be her finest slave. To be fully worthy of her, as she drew me close, for gentle intimacy and devoted worship.
Afterwards I lay at her feet, she in the chair, I on the floor; her stockinged legs arching over me. I stroked her leg, her silkened skin. We talked, happy with each other, coming down from a collective high. Departure was the last thing I wanted, but as we talked, she smiled and started teasing with the many dark, wonderous places we still can share.
And so, in trust and immense affection I yearn for future meetings; more intense, more to surrender to as my beloved Mistress makes of me what she wants, in the way she wants.
I will follow in trust.
"r"