Maîtresse Nuit takes her slave to Afternoon Tea. Her slave [a], an accomplished raconteur is tasked to entertain his Mistress with erotic tales. The afternoon unfolds , discreet public play peppers the parade of sandwiches and pâtisseries.
It had been a while since [ a ] came for a visit: his busy schedule, incessant travelling and recently a knee operation prevented him to seek the joys of transformation, striptease, ecstasy and pain in my salon. Earlier this Summer, [a] presented himself for a thorough inspection, the fitting of a device and off we went for afternoon tea in Covent Garden.
Suave lights, delicate chiming of cutlery, hushed conversations. The near amber nectar of a delicious brew poured into fine porcelain, the delicate bubbles rising in the liquid moon gold of a glass of Ruinart and a designer version of the traditional afternoon tea, [a] sits in front of me, his neck choked with a powder blue diamanté collar subtly contrasting with his light suit. The waitress has not registered this unusual accessory, she fusses around us with grace and efficiency and vanishes like the Cheshire cat. [a]’s face is a painting of changing expressions as I “play’ him and pulses of various intensity, rhythms and length electrify him whilst he strives to entertain me with an erotic tale. [a] is a gifted raconteur and writer.
The devoted waitress spends a slightly suspect amount of time refilling our cups and glasses and describing the exotic and taste provoking offerings of the chef pâtissier. We smile.
After the tale and some interesting discreet wriggling, it is time to toast a successful operation and look forward to more extravagant sessions at the Seraglio this autumn when he will be able to put on his heels and let loose his female counterpart and avatar: antoinette.
antoinette is the rightful daughter of a long line of erotic artists, strippers which harks back in millennia to the Hathoric dancers from Egypt’s Middle-Kingdom and the beautiful dancers of Minoan Crete. A Bacchante but not a Maenad, antoinette is on earth to delight in all the expressions of the body, to elicit desire and quite frankly to be taken and give pleasure.
antoinette delights in the touch of silk; soie charmeuse is her favourite fabric. She loves to be made up. She turns the experience of donning stockings into an alluring performance and she is a natural at transforming accessories into suggestive decoys … Just give her a feather boa and a pair of gloves!
To give some structure and contrast to her silhouette and encourage her stance, I encase her in a tight waist training corset and teach her to walk in heels. Deportment and posture are needed to heighten a luscious allure!
She is such a sensuous creature that a long spanking spanning a broad spectrum of gentle slaps to vigorous blows will make her blush with craving of pornographic nature. To cool slightly the tornado of her lust, I pierce her delicate nipples. This little ordeal increases her range of sighs and moans: a lovely melody of pain that she offers me with touching devotion.
I teach her the art of “delaying gratification”: to belly dance and strip to stretch lust, ignite ardor…. and infuse the entirety of the body in an erotic experience. A born actress, she can turn the modest ingenue into the proverbial Messalina.
antoinette is a wanton: Aroused by her steamy sensuality, her dance morphs from voluptuous and titillating sways to a lewd offering and unrestrained advances. Wild antoinette pines to worship a cock and for being taken, for being fucked … She is a very special player in my “Naughty Girls’s Salons”.
The afternoon closes with a last glass of Champagne: Ruinart for me and a special cuvée Maîtresse Nuit that I surreptitiously poured into his flute.
