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If you like, as I do, an elegant, slender, mature, commanding mistress then look no further than the divine London Mistress Cara. Her elegance and poise will captivate completely while her brutal disdain will leave you in no doubt as to who is in charge. Her wonderfully slender figure is a reminder of her former days as a ballerina. This she has combined with maturity to create the persona of a dominant sylphen mistress.

Beware those who think that her wonderfully skinny frame could not administer a suitable punishment. She is the consummate professional in wielding whip and cane, whose marks are a reminder of her supremacy.

My visits to Mistress Cara never fail to leave painful marks and a satisfied soul.

It was my birthday in the week so my treat to myself was a session with Mistress Cara of London. The need to enjoy the sight, feel, smell and taste of her extensive rubber wardrobe frequently rears its head and I am powerless to resist.

My anticipation of the pleasures awaiting reached fever pitch as she stood on her stairs and beckoned me to follow her exquisitely petite form to her chambers of pleasure.

After a customary chat while Mistress extracted my confession of the times I’d lusted over her since we last met, we moved to her rubber dungeon where I willingly pampered Mistress as she desired. I must have done a satisfactory job as, by way of reward, Mistress proceeded to degrade me in ways that I would only entrust to her.

Whenever I leave her I feel like I’m floating on air. Champagne and caviar may be a luxurious dish but it is as nothing compared to spending time serving London Mistress Cara…

The joy of the extended Christmas/New Year holiday meant that I was able to pay a couple of visits to London Mistress Cara and continue my journey of degradation at the hands and deliciously perverted mind of this absolute goddess.

Over time we have developed a close rapport and during the mid-morning sessions that have become our practice and which we secretly refer to as ‘brunch’ should anyone ask, Mistress takes control from the moment I hear the clicking of her heels as she comes to the door. The sound of her long thigh boots in her hallway precedes a view of her diminutive rear as she leads me upstairs to her dungeon and I allow myself a moment of pleasure admiring her petite figure, clad in clinging rubber.

Once seated at her throne, she demands my detailed confession of the many and regular lustful thoughts I’ve had about her since our last meeting. Her cut-glass, commanding, voice demonstrates her exquisite power over her slaves. It is clear that she enjoys this moment and as anyone who has the good fortune to serve her will know, Mistress is the most genuine and skilled practitioner of the art of domination that anyone could wish to find.

Naked,or sometimes wearing my own latex, I follow her to the rubber room, where I spend time worshipping her boots; sucking the heels like a cock,licking the detritus from the soles and trailing my hands and tongue the full length of the shiny black leather. Meanwhile, Mistress teases me with her deviant thoughts and suggestions, threatening to keep me as a permanent slave for her personal use at any time she wishes and to perform whatever act she chooses, no matter how perverted, disgusting or degrading it may be. I would willingly allow her to do just that…

Mistress fully understands the nuances of BDSM. She gets deep into your head and dominates your thoughts between visits. My confessions usually reveal just how often I think of her rubber-clad body, how I dream of stroking it and pampering her but also knowing that’s a treat I have to work hard to earn but one which, when granted, is the most sublime moment as I feel her body heat through the thin rubber.

Mistress knows I’m not into pain and punishment but derive pleasure from sensual domination and degradation without limits. Mistress is equally sensual and her darkly perverted mind (which she freely admits to having) has led me down a path of degradation that, until I met a Mistress that I immediately felt I could trust implicitly, I felt might only ever remain in the realms of fantasy.

My journey with London Mistress Cara continues…