The marker, I believe, of an experienced Mistress is not just Her successes but also, importantly, Her learning curves.
He told me he was a soldier, back to the UK for a short while. Attracted to his submissive writing style, especially when he agreed to take Mistress to dinner at a then favourite 2* michelin eaterie in Smithfield we arranged a hot D/s date. (do not let this make you think you should not book me professionally).
The night started a bit off when I was stopped by the City Of London police - accused of looking at my AtoZ whilst driving - of course I wasnt (whoever drives around Smithfield?) and of course they had a trainee to show the ropes - after finally being released from the common curbside I was on my way - the Soldier had been made to wait; as should all males when being presented with highly females accosted by the wayside.
On arrival I liked him - presented with genuine submissive demeanour I also liked his looks and the fact he was suited up on a Sunday evening (no tie of course) - for nothing can forgo old fashioned trying and chivalrous approach.
'As if it couldn't have been more perfect' (yes, a sentence starting with As) I thought to highlight the small table lamp which turned out to be a candle cover on which I burnt my fingers....
Balls up one: spent whole dinner with fingers in ice
Balls up two: we went for after drinks - he missed his train
Balls up three: I drove him back to his parents in Kent with my fingers in bag of ice.
Of course the eve of the session a week later - which this hot piece - had definitely tributed for - arrived. Apparently he was going back to Sierra Leone straight from Mistress's in the morning but Importantly and in no time I had him stripped on the floor - he had a six pack but importantly he was submissive. I do not remember much about any perverse and evil seductions before hand but:
Balls up four: I clamped him entirely, then sounded the place that needed to be filled & tested. The blood laden sound on the exit was rather thrilling for Mistress but such was his dismay at having to explain this the army doctor, well, St Marys it was.
I mean it's not like he would've gone back to base with the clap or an infestation of crabs - I tried to assuage his fears (just a burst blood vessel) but ultimately I ended up hiding in St Marys A&E, face behind an Evening Standard as he skulked off to be assessed by the Triage nurse who must of shared his story with all the staff - NHS workers are people too and need some respite from all the gloom.
A few weeks later I emailed to find out how he was. He had enjoyed our time but had decided to find a 'normal' woman to marry and had given up on BDSM.
Moral of this story? Beware of hot candle covers & burst blood vessels but know that both can usually be remedied; maybe even enjoyed. And never regret the hot soldier you drove both home and to A&E.
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