I was still new to the femdom scene, but already addicted to the way it shifted the air in a room. Research became my quiet obsession, I read about restraint, denial, small cruelties that are not cruel at all, and I found myself practising the tone of command under my breath. Some things still felt distant, like breath play, but the growing sense of authority gave me a thrill. Then Alex appeared, my first chance to bring it all into practice. He didn’t mind that I was still learning, which in itself was strangely disarming. His interests, tickling and edging, were both familiar to me. We agreed to meet at my place.
The hours before our appointment I paced, and second guessed myself. My nerves twisted, so I called a friend for reassurance. She was sharp, telling me that if I wanted to hold power I had to stop shrinking from it. It was blunt advice, but it worked. By the time Alex knocked at the door I felt steadier.
While he showered, I arranged my little collection. I had feathers, ribbons, brushes, cuffs, and a few other toys for teasing. They looked almost innocent when placed together, but I knew what weight they carried. This was where theory would meet practice, and I wanted him to feel both safe and unsettled in equal measure.
When he returned I directed him to the bed, fastening the restraints with a calm hand. He was shy, almost bashful, which made the reversal of roles delicious. I began lightly, letting a ribbon trail over his skin, mapping out where his body whispered its secrets. Everyone has their own constellation of sensitivity, his belly button, his thighs, his throat became my notes in this slow song.
I deliberately ignored the places he thought I would touch, focusing instead on the odd little triggers that made him laugh and writhe. It struck me then that my experience with toys was not about technique alone but about observation, timing, knowing when to give and when to withhold. A Dominatrix is as much conductor as tormentor.
When he grew breathless I let my voice drop lower, telling him to hold back, reminding him that only I would decide the outcome. The sheer surprise of hearing my own authority land in the space between us gave me a quiet rush, watching him yield to instruction was like watching trust solidify.
By the end I realised how much I had shifted too. I was not simply playing at dominance, I was becoming it. This was the first step in my journey towards being a true London Dominatrix, nervous, yes, but undeniably in control.
If you enjoyed this glimpse into power and play, you’ll love reading about another fantasy come to life in Catgirl Roleplay with a Chelsea Escort.