An American Dominatrix in London

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. The photos, videos, and text finally convince you to schedule through the web application. Despite your head swimming with possibility, you navigate the booking process easily. The appointment feels simultaneously like an eternity to wait and like it is approaching too quickly for you to prepare. Then it is the day and the hour. You have left 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 deminer controls the interaction, but it is neither the cold stance 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 a character of a dominant woman. Being warm and kind, in fact, allows you to ease more gracefully into submission to your domina. Putting you at ease while in an aggressively BDSM dungeon feels surreal to you.

Before you know it, we have refined our impending session, and you are sent to the bathroom to transform 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 following command or observation. The only things loud about me are my bootheels clacking against the floor and my gleeful laughter. I do like to enjoy myself during sessions. It is called “play,” after all.

While you are on your hands and knees in preparation 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 than you could experience in one lifetime. I choose my implements in accordance with your triggers. Everything has the purpose of opening your mind so I can step inside.

Here, I am well suited to execute my specialties, my loved practices of all things bondage, pegging and anal games, and medical fetish. I encourage you to read more on their dedicated pages.

My skill set is in no way limited to those three arenas. I have decades of experience in multiple kink disciplines, and you can explore these with me as the interest strikes you.

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 float in a dream, like the world’s weight was lifted from your shoulders for 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.