I love it when men talk about their dreams—the Beautiful Princess or Queen they want to serve. For many, this remains just a fantasy, but for me, this dream has become reality. I am a Mistress, and one man gave me seven years of his life—seven years of devotion, pain, trust, and submission that have become part of my soul, part of my world. Our acquaintance began timidly: he came to test himself, his limits, to understand how much he could trust a woman who takes complete control. In his gaze, I noticed a mixture of timidity and quiet delight, a desire to surrender, trembling and tension, but most importantly—a willingness to be mine. The first punishment was a test. I made him kneel before me and selected a whip, a belt, and a cane. "Lower your head," I ordered, and his voice trembled: "Yes, Mistress." Strike after strike fell on his skin, leaving stripes and marks. His breathing quickened, his body tensed, he fought back a scream but did not beg for mercy. "Say... continue reading