I Hired a Pro Domme (Part Two)

I biked to their place like I was picking up oat milk....not about to get flogged.

Ten.
Smack.
Nine.
Smack.
Eight.
Smack.

The cold glass paddle lit my skin with fire, each strike sharper than the last.

After weeks of searching — the Berlin squirt masters, one soul-expanding Zoom call with The Siren, and a warm referral to a local domme — my IRL BDSM session was finally happening (Haven’t read Part One? Catch up here).

Before our meeting. She sent a negotiation form that made my nerdy, emotionally inquisitive brain purr.

• What kind of tone would you like for your session? Soft. Playful. Strict. Intense. Sensual. Therapeutic…”

• “Do you enjoy having decisions made for you during play, or being given choices?”

• “What kinds of experiences or dynamics are you craving? Pain and catharsis? Seductive power play? Ritualistic submission?”

I loved this. (If only our whole lives were this intentional.) It forced me to pause and reflect. What did I actually want?

🚲 The Day Of

Here’s the part where I’m supposed to say I was excited. I wasn’t.