From “A Brief Moment in Time:
One Recollection of Sexual Domination”
Nancy Ava Miller
Thoughts cannot be timed like
calendars or clocks; they span timeless worlds inside one. Writing
is the link.
—Albert Speer, 1905–1981
If a person could “go gay” and
if I thus decided to do so, Cassie would be the girl I would choose.
She’s tall but not too tall with a boyish build—small breasts, slim
hips, long lanky legs and arms; and though she’s in her midthirties,
she resembles a teenager. Her face, young and fresh, requires no
makeup. In fact, makeup might be a detriment for one with skin so
clean and eyes possessing a play of light deep inside the pupils,
the type of light that earmarks one as intelligent. And indeed,
Cassie is intelligent. She even boasts a PhD to prove it.Nancyava.com
But it is not so
much the sweet looks and erudition that attracts me. In addition to
those attributes, Cassie is a slut who craves pain in various forms
(the whip, the hot wax upon her nipples) and who’ll readily widen
her thighs to accept a dildo or some fluttering fingertips or, for
that matter, a fist or dick up her cunt or ass. And because of
this—her slutlike nature—it was easy, back in 1990 when I myself
became a professional dominatrix, to recruit Cassie when I needed a
submissive female for an S&M rendezvous.
One such session I
reminisce often. The man’s name was Ted—a pleasant fellow,
blue-collar, bright, enlightened, and nice to look at with burly
build and blondish hair. His eyes, by the way, held the same glow as
Cassie’s. When Ted arrived, I kept Cassie hidden in the bedroom
while I better acquainted myself with the newcomer. I pulled out my
list of “generic” S&M fantasies although we’d already discussed his
sexual leanings during a recent phone chat, and in fact, I’d
received a letter from him too stating how he envisioned the
activities and outcome of our threesome.
“Just answer ‘yes,’
‘no,’ ‘maybe,’ ‘question mark’ as I run through my S&M fantasy list,
Ted,” I said. He sat straight and stiff upon my couch. “So we may
better target your interests.”
“Okay,” he said.
“Yes, ma’am,” I
His eyes lowered.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said softly.
Then I recited the
fantasy list. It is the same list I’ve held and honed and used for
decades and reads as follows:
clothing on the woman (if so, describe attire)
forced to go down on a woman (both her pussy and her ass?)
massaging the mistress
and ball bondage
and ball torture
penetration of your penis with an object like a catheter
homosexuality or bisexuality
forced to taste or drink your own come
shaving of your body
In addition to the
fantasies, I asked Ted how often he masturbated and when his last
orgasm occurred. I also asked about his sexual goals. And then we
were ready to proceed.
When I entered the
bedroom to fetch Cassie, I found her kneeling, hands clasped low
behind her back, head bowed. She was wearing pink baby-doll pajamas
with black pumps and white frilly anklets upon her slender feet. She
looked, as usual, fifteen years old! I looped a delicate collar on
her neck, sleek and long; and to that, I attached a leash.