Mistress Vancouver Dominatrix, Fetish, Discipline, Domination

July 2011

Dominatrix, who dictates your mood

Picture a woman who dresses to reveal her curves in tight fine fabrics, concealing her skin, and always wearing shoes with at least a one-inch heel. Perfectly contoured features on her face draw an image of someone you’d better not fool around with. Her hair, whether short, braided or loose, is a sheer halo-like helmet.

When she touches your cheeks to comfort you, you feel the soft skin of her gloves. She is firm but guiding, erotic but not slutty, and sexual but not vulgar. She is divine, and yet she is by her own admission, no saint. She listens intently without being impressed. Her distinct sense of humor tempts you to make her smile: and all the while, is she laughing at you? Knowing what she wants, she exudes constructive energy. With her lively and confident demeanor she strives to put you in your place when being challenged. Your mistakes feed her skill of correcting; your repetitive mistakes result in great enjoyment from punishing you.

She loves her own body and uses it in every possible way to demonstrate your weakness for it. Exercising regularly she shows off her healthy strength. You drop to your knees just by looking at her. You wish to touch what’s closest to your eyes from this perspective, but she is already moving on to new excitement that awaits her. She is driven by the need to understand, the need to improve, the necessity to progress and the desire to succeed. She wants to live life fully and be on top. She continuously works to reach her goal and that is where she will find her comfort level. A controlled comfort: so when she gets tired of it, she can get back to what she loves the most and that is creating. Her idealism is infectious, mannerism influential, and the strategies she employs admirable.

You want to be with her, near her, around her to provide help when she needs it and you really hope she does, so you can prove your usefulness and present your skills. But it is actually you who is waiting for approval, completely lost. You feel inferior to her and that draws you even more to her, somewhat like a magnet, perhaps like an eternally spiraling whirlwind. But she is no immortal. She is made up of flesh and bones, milk and blood, a very womanly human. Her breasts plump, full and for you to see; her round hips rocking you to fall asleep, her face expressionless: an iconic dominatrix, who dictates your mood…

 

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