Preston and Manchester Mistress - Madame Margi - Reviews Page 36



2009 – Review by Rowena

Your last email, announcing my imminent fate when next we meet moved me to the core - it really did. It still sends shivers down my spine.

For the last week and more, as I drift off to sleep and as I wake, I sense myself, bound by you - and in truth bound to you - truly helpless, spread, open and suffering at your hand. Once you pronounced you’d decided to now be “firm” with me was, at that moment, such an exciting phrase, but you've now taken me beyond that as I respond with a new honesty to your wicked cruelty and sweet sadism. I so ache to be with you, to please you, to be the object of your complete dominance. The collar is buckled.

The pain you inflict has stripped me bare and the excitement of that nakedness goes beyond mere physical nudity; you see all of me - vulnerable, hurting, suffering, in pain, in pleasure and in passion. Nothing is hidden.
You'd said you'd hood me, blindfold me and gag me, but you enjoy my cries, revel in my whimpers, relish my shudders and when the tears flow you enjoy your power. I so hope my suffering make you tingle and your nipples rise.

You’ve pronounced a rightful judgment and under your uncompromising punishment you’ve broken the false nature of masculinity and moved me to a new level yet again; I crumple at your feet, to beg your forgiveness for the dishonesty of my sex, our hypocrisy, our pretences. I look up to you, for your guidance, hoping for your softer touches - to be of use and fully used. As ever I yearn to know the power that is feminine.




I've dreamt of you standing over me, commanding me to hold my head back and to open my mouth - you piss into it. You tasted so good from the glass, but fresh from the spring there is magic in your stream. By that magic, my pubes are neatly trimmed, balls completely hairless and scrotum shaved. My cock is bound; my nuts harnessed, steel and leather keep it all erect, denied to me but always open to your torment for your delight. My shaft penetrated and seed stopped, filled with chill steel, arousing me, but stopping me. Decorated and confined it’s all yours, no longer mine. You've talked of tit rings - you suck and bite my nipples, they grow and the adornment appears. I will be led by them.

Sentenced by you, punished by you - for being male - my redemption lies through you. It embraces me, I have no choice, but I no longer desire a choice – why would I when you are all. My body feels the touch of female forming; coolness embraces; lacing tightens and shapes, feet in heels give a feminine stride, to accentuate an ass; fetish and form drive desire to be like you, but not like you - for your concubine must be all you desire and demand. Man and women, female and male combined in on who is submissive.

A painted slut who’s now given over to sensuality – who will come to know what it is to be debauched and hedonistic. Enslaved by sensation and a new appearance - red lips, black lined eyes, rouged cheeks. A lingering kiss seals her fate. Your tart knows her place, and that's on her knees, on all fours - the shoe is proffered, then the heel. Stiletto sucking connects to you so enjoying your rightful power you place your foot on a slave’s neck and whisper, "I'm a dominant bitch and you're now my submissive bitch. So show me just how good that bitch tongue of yours is – you will start by licking my suspender - properly. And you'd better be good, or I'll whip you. Or perhaps if you're very good I'll whip you as a reward - I think you’d like that. Wouldn't you bitch?"
Your collar is always welcome to me and I feel very alone when you unbuckle it.