Dear Mistress Vivienne,

Firstly, please let me apologise for taking so very long to report back to You on our session, which despite my tardiness i do hope was the first of many. Since I knelt for You it seems that I have been avalanched with problems that have come at me from all angles though I do recognise that this is no excuse and I can only commit to do better in the future. After we sessioned, Mistress, You asked me to provide some form of feedback and so here it is, and rest assured please that whilst some time had passed I have thought of little else since.


It will go without saying that I was extremely nervous at the prospect of serving Mistress Vivienne Lamour for the very first time and like with so much of my experience I was both right to be nervous and had no need to be in equal measure. I was right to be because You. are not a world renowned Domina without reason and I had asked to be taken and used as You saw fit. And I was wrong to be because You are not a world renowned Domina for no reason and so I was  going to be safe in Your hands. Of course I had scoured the internet for every available image, video or utterance from the Goddess in the days and weeks before my appointment but despite this I still had little idea what to expect but even had I had a head full of expectation there is no doubt that nothing could have prepared me for the vision that greeted me upon warring at Your studios.


For I was greeted by the sight of You, towering above me on skyscraper heels,  encased from head to toe in red pvc. How do You manage to be warm and welcoming, and aloof and domineering at the same time, Mistress? Quickly I was whisked away upstairs, where You proceeded to dress me in a latex catsuit that You described as being aubergine in colour. You adorned we with latex hood and long blonde wig and then spent no little time furnishing me with large latex breasts, which you arranged fastidiously. My outfit was finished off with heels and a collar and, unimpressed with mediocre physique, You named me GT – short for Glittery Turd – and whilst I am not unaccustomed to being verbally abused as I served as a sissy for my previous Domme – I was a little disappointed to be so uninspiring; I had so hoped to be pleasing to You.


I was led into You medical room and very quickly secured to Your inspection bench whereupon You proceeded to use and abuse me without pause or discussion. You attached electrodes to my cock and balls and turned the dials up to a level that oscillated somewhere between just about bearable and just about unbearable; Your laughter at my predicament was music to my ears and disquieting too – like You said, electricity doesn’t get tired. As I bucked against the straps that bound me wondering how I would endure and knowing that this was where I was meant to be, You would periodically spit into my eager, greedy mouth: it was as if somehow some distilled essence of Your dominance was somehow being administers, some powerful drug that forces me deeper into my true self.


You then plugged my hole and invited one of Your Mistress friends, a tattooed and busty vision, to view my predicament: She admired my cock, laughed at me and left. Somehow I ached for Her to stay: to double my jeopardy or somehow ameliorate Your cruelty I do know? I recognise that I am not worthy of half the Mistress that You are so now that such treatment from multiple Dommes should not be taken lightly. When She left You came over and informed that You were now going to fist me and proceeded to administer poppers to me: why this should be so I know not but, despite having been frequently and regularly fucked by my past over and thereby taught that my body in its entirety does not belong to me, fisting is a red line for me and poppers also. I cannot. Articulate why the former is but I guess the latter is in party due to health concerns but mainly because letting go is hard to do. The utter abandonment of self to whatever comes is hard. But I ached so to please and be pleasing, and how can I define myself as submissive if no is in my vocabulary.



So my mind was racing: would You do it, what would it feel like and what would I be afterwards? If I could let this happen then what else would I be open to? Whether the poppers or the intense, primal need to please was responsible, I tried to relax and accept it: after all You were in control utterly and I was in no position to resist. Just like to electricity pumping through my cock and balls, Your fingers were relentless: my hole Your possession and I was lost to You and the world. I cannot describe the waves of sensation adequately but it feels like waves of sensation: uncomfortable yet close to pleasure and a pressure building that never breaks or subsides. Like to rise to climax but without end. Almost too much  but for a true adherent in my rightful place in the world wanting it never to end.


You then started to finish our by slaking my thirst with Your golden wine and with the clear direction not to spill a drop: wave after wave was released down my thirsty throat, mildly acrid yet deliciously divine. I drank every drop down gratefully and though relieved when it was finished I have longed for it every day since.


The final act was allowing me to bring myself to climax to a strict countdown and with the clear direction to catch my filth in my hand and to consume it all like a good slut. This I did gratefully and ashamedly and proudly: all the paradox and confusion of serving the truly divine.


You will hear nothing from me, Goddess, that You haven’t heard a million times before and from better men but it was an honour to serve You and something I will with Your blessing repeat many times in the future. I will not return to You with scripts or wish lists because I understand now that You have the skills and imagination to blow my mind and should merely place myself in Your hands and let You use me as You see fit: slave, sissy, maid, pet whatever. Thank You.


I will ache until the next time and remain adoringly


In deepest submission



Vivienne l’Amour & Celestial Studios

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