I’ve always loved that fine line, the moment when their eyes change. At first there’s a slight hesitation, as if they don’t believe they can willingly give up control. But then comes the realization that they’ve already given in, even before I’ve touched them.

I stand opposite them, watching silently. The silence in the room is thick as velvet, and it only heightens the tension. They don’t dare speak first, which is wonderful. They sense who sets the rules here, even if I haven’t said a word yet.

“Knees,” my voice is quiet but peremptory. I don’t have to raise my voice to make them obey. I see them drop, tremble with excitement and impatience. Every movement they make is an acknowledgement of my power.

I walk around them, slowly, allowing them to feel vulnerable. My hand touches their hair, lightly as silk, then a little harder. I love these contrasts, softness, followed by a slight tension. Control is not just physics, it is the ability to penetrate their mind, to hold it in your hands like a fragile vessel.

I say little, only to indicate what and how to do. For them, every word of mine is the truth. They try, sometimes they get confused, but this is also wonderful. Mistakes are part of the process. I punish them gently, so that the punishment becomes a lesson, but also a pleasure.

My favorite is to watch how they gradually open up. How internal barriers break down, how fear is replaced by trust. They begin to understand that I am not going to hurt without a reason. Pain, if there is, will be sweet, verified, such that they will want more.

My whip is an extension of my hand. A light blow, then another. Not to hurt, but to make them feel. Each touch is a dialogue that does not require words. I read their body, their breathing, their slightest movements. And in this dynamic I find myself.

For me, this is not just a game. It's an art to create, to control, to balance. I don't just dominate. I teach them to be real, to drop the masks and trust completely.

When I finish, I always look into their eyes. There is no more doubt. Only respect, gratitude and that little spark that says, "I'm ready to give myself to you again."

And I smile, knowing that this power is not about roughness or pain. It's about the strength that lies in the tips of my fingers and how I can rewrite their world while standing above them.