I never knew when, or even if, there would be a next time. Sometimes She wanted to see me daily, sometimes a couple of times a month and sometimes not at all for long periods of time. The dreadful uncertainty was a wicked touch and a torment in itself. She was an old-school disciplinarian and a passionate believer in Female Superiority. Her word was law and Her authority was beyond all doubt. She was twelve years older than me, and, needless to say, at least twelve-hundred times wiser. She was a beautiful, elegant and sophisticated Lady who never raised voice. Because, She explained: ‘if you can’t control yourself, then how can you possibly control a slave.’ She also never asked whether or not I enjoyed the harsh training sessions. She once said: ‘Don’t ask how the session was for you; ask how it was for Me.’ What made it so special and memorable was the ease and casualness of it all: She led, I followed; She punished, I suffered; She ruled, I obeyed. God, life can be so simple sometimes. I served and suffered for Her for many years and yet I could hardly sleep the night before a meeting (aka beating). I also often stammered and blushed, because I felt so small and insignificant in Her presence. I couldn’t know it back then, but She belonged to the fast dying breed of genuine lifestyle Mistresses and I will always be grateful that I had the privilege of knowing Her.
slave james
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