M Dominates England

The London femdom scene has spoiled you for choice, but the visiting American intrigues you. You crave a different style of domination. You seek something international but also safe in Central London. Despite your head swimming with possibility, you navigate the booking process easily. The time until the appointment feels simultaneously like an eternity and like it is disappearing too quickly for you to prepare. Then it is the day and the hour. You leave the tube and stand in front of the door, knocking.

I welcome you to one of the well-equipped play spaces in Madam Caramel’s London BDSM dungeon network. I smile as you struggle to place my American accent, which I retain even after 15 years of living in Europe. For you, it’s a blank slate, unbound by class or status. I enjoy how disarmed you are without this anchor point in our dynamic. While my accent is more generalized than regional, I have no problem slipping in unironic American colloquialisms. Awesome.

My demeanor controls the interaction, but it is neither the standoffish nature of British or German mistresses nor the hot-headedness of a French dominatrice. You quickly see that I do not present a front. My dominance comes from simple confidence, which is not so easily toppled as that of a mere caricature of a dominant woman. In fact, my warmth and kindness while we discuss ideas underpinning our session allow you to ease more gracefully into submission to me as your domina. Being put at ease while in a BDSM dungeon, aggressively appointed with leather and medieval-inspired torment devices, feels surreal to you.

Before you know it,  our journey together begins, and you are sent to the bathroom to change and prepare, returning transformed into my submissive.

Behind Closed London Dungeon Doors

You notice right away that I speak slowly, quietly, yet firmly. I do not need to raise my voice to be heard. I know you, as my subject, eagerly await my next command or observation. The only things loud about me are my boot-heels clacking against the floor and my gleeful laughter. I do like to enjoy myself during sessions. It is called “play,” after all.

While you wait on your hands and knees for me, I peruse the kinky equipment at my fingertips. The dungeon bursts at the seams with clips, crops, whips, paddles, floggers, straps, strap-on belts, collars, masks, and so much more—enough for multiple lifetimes of pleasure and pain. I choose my various implements in accordance with your fetish switches. Each has the same purpose: opening your mind so I can step inside.
In the dungeon, I am well equipped to execute my specialties, my loved practices of bondage, pegging and anal games, and medical fetish. I encourage you to read more on their dedicated pages.

However, My skill set is not limited to those three arenas. I have decades of experience in multiple kink disciplines, and you can explore these with me with confidence in my ability.

Our play waxes and wanes but always progresses in intensity. I make you drunk without exterior chemicals. You are drunk on your own submission to me. As we finish, you are completely exhausted but light and unburdened. You feel as though you are floating in a dream, like the world’s weight was lifted from your shoulders during our all-too-brief time together. I suggest you shower to rinse off the last stress extracted from you and bring your floating feet back to Earth.

We converse normally, which should seem bizarre after your incredible moment, but it feels natural. After the shower and casual debriefing, you will be ready to retake London Town and plan your next appointment.

Psychological play

All my play is psychological at some level. You may want to focus on more mental games. Each of these things is very personal, and we will need to discuss them in person when we meet to refine my techniques to your psyche.

• Humiliation
• Masturbation instruction
• Power dynamic
• Roleplay
• Tease and denial

Pegging and Anal Games

Nature played a little joke on you. She gave you a potent G-spot but then tucked it away in a taboo place. Thus, you both fear and crave being penetrated. Perhaps your sense of fear makes crossing that boundary even more tantalizing. The taboo draws you into the idea of being pegged. It’s something secret you would never discuss in polite company or even close friends. You’ve never been conventional, though. Taboos may frighten you, but they frighten you towards them, not away.