Dear Madame Athlaina

I’ve written a short review of our initial meeting that I hope You will accept. It isn’t intended as sycophantic but a record of my feelings and memories of a meeting I’ve dreamt of for 50 years and the omissions that time prevented our discussing. 

As Madame strode towards me, self-assured, smiling, I felt my anxieties melt away. After introductions She placed Her order and immediately, I felt the privilege of being allowed to purchase Her drink for Her. Returning to Madame’s car, I followed later with Her order and with anticipation settled into the passenger seat beside Her.

I was relieved the meeting took place in Her car as it enabled me to be open and honest without fear of being overheard. Being so close, I reflected that Her photos didn’t do justice to Her beauty. Without makeup Madame’s skin is perfect and She is radiant. I wished the hour would pass slowly as we settled into friendly conversation and then deeper discussion.

Madame knew I fetishise about female clothes and She treated me by wearing Her close knit sparkly green top with the fluted wrist details and tight trousers tucked into Her shiny black knee length boots. Madame’s style was elegant and smart and was complimented by Her plaited blond hair lying across Her nearest shoulder.

Being in Madame’s company was simultaneously exhilarating and relaxing as She skilfully probed with leading questions and exposed my desires and secrets. I took a deep breath and told Her about my cross-dressing desires, the need to be a slut transvestite.  These were difficult to repeat but Madame’s calm, authoritative presence gave me confidence. Eventually I was accepted for a session, details and tribute were discussed and She held my gaze steadily with Her blue eyes, Her mind already turning over the possibilities.

The time inevitably passed too quickly, and I didn’t get round to telling Her about the main inspiration for seeking submission, that I became obsessed with a sci-fi strip cartoon in a daily newspaper when I was 15 after my sister had left home. A leading character was a beautiful woman dressed all in black, a long flowing sleeveless dress split to the crutch at the front exposing her thigh length boots and with opera length gloves and Domina mask. When I saw Madame on Her website wearing Her mask I was immediately reminded of my obsession.

Lack of time also prevented me from mentioning my sister’s clothes that I liked to wear and masturbate in. Clothes she left behind still carried her scent and helped me cope with the pain of her loss. That’s why Madame’s clothes, Her beauty and Her scent will be my focus to help me deal with the pain She inflicts in the course of our sessions.

But I felt euphoric afterwards committing to the dominant Madame, anticipating my place as one of Her slaves.

Yours respectfully

sub paul

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