Member-only story
I’m a Vegan Dominatrix
I only cage and torture consenting beings
I’m in New York City on the Upper East Side sitting atop a human-sized cage with a naked man kneeling at my feet. The room is smaller and darker than the dungeon I rent in Los Angeles, but this is New York, where space and light come at a premium. The man below me is busy lacing my new thigh-high boots. We’re both readying ourselves for another three-hour appointment together. He’s brought the boots as a gift.
“Mistress, I love worshipping your leather boots,” he coos. In an email, he begged for the privilege of buying me these boots. I grab his chin and pull his face up to look at me. “Show me how much you love them,” I say in the stern yet sultry voice I slip into during sessions. I can see his body charge with excitement. My client eagerly begins kissing and stroking my boot. I chastise him for being too eager. “This isn’t about you!” I pull my leg away and run my long fingernails up my boot showing off how freely I’m able to feel them. “Look at how gorgeous my new leather boots are. Think about how lucky you are to buy them for me.” Roughly, I bring my boot to the side of his face. “Now, start over. Kiss them slowly. Show me your gratitude.”
I like to believe I’m drawn to both of these lifestyles because they share the core…
