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Role-play with a beatdown. The way to please me.

I’m proud to say that I enjoy all that I offer in a session: fetish wrestling, CBT, nipple torture, corporal punishment: spanking, paddling, whipping, flogging, strap-on / pegging, pet-pay, puppy-play, humiliation – verbal and mental – breath play, restraint, feminisation and beatdowns. For me, that’s one of the best things about being a Domme. I am one of the few people who are genuinely excited to go to work and enjoy every minute of it.
But I do have my favourites. One of them is role-play scenarios, and the other is beatdowns. Oh yes, I enjoy a good, sweaty beatdown – you must know this by now. I especially love detailed scenarios because they provide my artistic, creative mind with the space to elaborate. Outfits, punchlines and of course filthy mind games that drive one crazy with arousal, as well as the room to improvise on the spot. And I love physicality; any chance that I can show off my years of Martial Arts training. I’ve built strength, excellent control over my movement, precision and flow. I can hurt you just as much as you need. No less, no more. Safe but firm.
So back to my subject. A few weeks ago I had one of the best requests and sessions of my life. It was a role-play with a beatdown, of course! I was the debt collector, the best of my kind. A ruthless, strong, mouthy debt collector. With excellent interrogation and fighting skills. In the guise of a common-looking, pretty and smiley woman.
So I knock on the door and as soon as he let me in, I tricked him by saying that I’m doing a survey, can’t believe he even bought it. Such an old trick. I storm in and take the weasel down. Straight to the floor, good ol’ school-girl pin. So I can see his pathetic face, control him and disempower him with my smile, while I do the questioning. Where is the money? Why are you late on your payment? And, Where is the f* money?
He was thunderstruck. He could not believe that I was the debt collector. How did that pretty and sweet woman standing on the doorstep just a few seconds ago, turned into his worst nightmare?
I knew it wasn’t going to be that hard; he already seemed scared. After the second “I don’t have them”, I take off my clean and freshly ironed clothes (I couldn’t risk a crease or stain just for this pathetic worm) and started kicking and kneeing him for a good few minutes in order to break him. As soon as I stopped, I put him straight in a rear naked choke hold and whispered in his ear: “ Give me the money now, or this will end up very badly for you. Don’t waste my time and my energy, I want to get on with my day. The sooner you give it, the best for both of us.” I tightened the choke to show him I wasn’t there to fool around.
“All right, all right”, he said, “I will give you the money”. That was easy, I thought. So, being filled with excitement, I rode him while he was on all fours, and asked him to take me to the money while I spanked his bottom like a horse. That was indeed, unnecessary, but a girl’s gotta have some fun. A bit of humiliation never hurt anyone.
However, what happened next, proves that he deserved every minute of my torture and many more.
That fool, that good-for-nothing, that brainless pig, tried to trick me as well, pulling out a knife, instead of the money. Well, that was very, very stupid. I almost felt sorry for him; for what was going to follow: a blast of punches, slaps, knees and kicks, all over his body while he was on the floor weeping and begging me to stop. I rode him and held his hands down, brought my face close to his face and threatened to continue, at a higher pace and strength, if he didn’t give me the money. It had been about 45 minutes of my life wasted and I was well pissed off.
He was sobbing, laid on the floor, while I had his head between my thighs, squeezing just as hard as needed for him to feel light headed, and ready to squeeze harder, if he didn’t answer that one question. He only had one more chance, and he knew it. This time, he was wise enough to surrender. I had grabbed him by the balls, to make sure he wouldn’t do anything silly again, and he trailed himself to the next room, where he finally took the goddamn money out and handed it to me.
I’m content. I give him a good few slaps, just to remind him that I didn’t forget that he wasted my time. Because I will be back. When the next payment is due. And that time I will be angry. And horny. And I will bring with me my favourite whip and my XXL strap-on.

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