My own sex life is entirely distinct from the charming, obliging, no-nonsense headmistress I play in my line of work as a dominatrix.
Thank goodness. I’d hate there to be any crossover. I need a space where I’m not performing, not managing someone else’s expectations, not holding everything together.
Work is structured, deliberate; my private life isn’t. If the two bled into each other, I think I’d start to feel like I was always on duty.
Sex matters to me: feeling desired and desirable by the man I adore is as essential to me as oxygen.
Happily, the details differ wildly. I do...


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