Hopefully you enjoyed last month’s 14 part account of the Secret Life of John and Sara. If you missed it, you can find the first episode here. I had a lot of fun writing it and doling it out, as well as reading your feedback.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been asked for other photos, other more… revealing photos. Yes, there are other photos, darlings, but why should I show them to you? What makes you think that you deserve to see more skin, and what makes you think that a woman like me would publicly post revealing photos?
Why can’t you see more skin? Because I’ve got class, boys and gurls. I’m elegant, educated, and naturally dominant, and I want clients who are interested in me for those qualities, not for the size of my breasts or the cut of my bustier.
My photos are tasteful and suggestive for a reason. I’m not a silly little air-headed cum slut waiting for you to call her so she can giggle and ooh and ahh for you. The world is full of them. They outnumber me 20-to-1 and you can find them at any one of the hundreds of phone-sex companies out there.
But you don’t want a fluff-brained child-idiot on the phone with you, do you? Some of you might want a woman who can turn you into one, but you certainly don’t want to talk to one. No. What you want is that rarity of rarities, the full attention of a beautiful Dominant Female. When you call me you get a real woman, a sophisticated young Domme who knows her power, a woman from a privileged background with an ivy-league education and a powerful ability to crawl into the minds of men. I’ve got a voice that is so sensual, I can slip down into your lizard brain and hijack your genitals within a few sentences, and I’m articulate, oh yes, I’ve got a way with words, a way of planting little flags of arousal that keep unfurling long after our conversation has ended.
For some of you, I’m way out of your league, and that excites you. For others, well, you probably wish I was the socialite sitting across from you at some deadly-dull function, with my foot in your lap and my dark eyes twinkling. Regardless, what it comes down to is this–I’m the fucking Domme and my skin isn’t the skin that matters. Its yours that matters. Your skin, and what I choose to do to it and with it, whether it is stroking or flogging or pampering.
If there is going to be any more skin displayed, it is going to be yours, my pets.
Now if anyone wants to improve my mood, chocolate works – and the button for my wish list is right over there 
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As you know, the only thing better than dark chocolate is a deep, dark fantasy–especially one that is shared with the right person. Let’s get started now!
