Summer Sojourn

"Hot weather opens the skull of a city, exposing its white brain, and its heart of nerves, which sizzle like the wires inside a lightbulb. And there exudes a sour extra-human smell that makes the very stone seem flesh-alive, webbed and pulsing." ―Truman Capote, Summer Crossing "August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time." ―Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath Summer seems to have skulked off without even an apology, and is now just a disappointing memory. I spent it largely strutting around the dungeon clad in latex, and then latterly lounging around in Spain, in a bid to escape the usual spectacularly dull northern weather. The holiday was divine - paella, octopus, plenty of rum, no tanning – vaguely crass don’t you think and crimson thighs are not attractive – and not setting an alarm for two weeks was the ultimate luxury. I swam, I slept. I was waited on by Slave Number 1, who was lucky enough to accompany me on my travels. We stayed in a traditional old house that had been exquisitely modernised inside – all huge expanses of white walls and exposed stone, along with hand painted floor tiles and a roof terrace. You may recall, in addition to being a Dominatrix I have a full-time grown-up day job. I didn’t miss my day job at the office. At all. Not one bit! On my return to the UK however, the first thing I wanted to do was to squeeze myself into some unspeakably tight latex, pull on some thigh-high boots, apply a slash of red lipstick, and get back into the dungeon. Now, being a dominatrix is relatively hard work (it’s not quite salt-mining in Siberia, but still…). It takes more than just being a ‘Feisty Woman’ (or as an exe described me, an “argumentative pain in the arse” - he’s an exe for many reasons). As well as the time it takes to develop the necessary skills and experience, there is the advertising, social media profile maintaining, finding the right subs to session with, planning sessions that work, investigating new and original techniques and equipment - these all take up my precious time, and require substantial effort. However, my point is that I missed the dungeon and the domming. I missed the nervous first-timers and the familiar old faces. I missed the thrill of issuing the first command, and having it obeyed swiftly, with a stuttering “yes Mistress”. I missed the smell of leather tawses, whips and floggers. I missed selecting just the right cane for the right quivering buttocks. I missed getting the lighting just right. It’s good to be back.