• Age: I‘m currently 27 years old born on the 1st of November
  • Location: I live in the darkest part of London, United Queendom
  • Dress Size UK: Size 12 with 34 DD/E Breasts – Big, I know.
  • Favourite Fetishes: Blackmail, Orgasm Denial and Long-term Captivity




I was born in Kingston, Jamaica and came to live in England when I was 8 years old. I found England to be a strange yet wonderful place and found fitting into my new environment much easier than I had ever imagined. My accent was very thick and I would often pronounce words in such a way that people found it amusing or would find me difficult to understand. I grew to enjoy the attention this brought. I also enjoyed using swear words which went unrecognised by my oblivious English teachers. I was the mysterious, new Caribbean girl with the dark skin, plump lips, big eyes and that Jamaican accent.

I began attending a predominantly white school in London where I was one of four black children. I quickly developed a special friendship with a white boy named Charlie who was in my class and who also happened to live on the same street as me. I would not call my feelings love at first sight but I would admit to being instantly drawn to him. Charlie had a side and manner which would only be apparent when he spoke to me or spent time with me. He was not an overly aggressive boy but equally he was not weak either. I started observing and studying changes in his behaviour when I was around him or when I spoke to him: he would always let me speak first; he would never raise his voice to me; and he would defend me if any of the other children mocked or upset me.

As the new girl in class, I quickly realised that everyone already had their own cliques, seating arrangements and chosen partners. My teacher had to ask who would like to share their table with me, when I first joined my class, which I remember finding embarrassing. The discomfort must have been evident on my face, however, as Charlie held his hand up and asked if I wanted to sit with him. I began sharing a table with Charlie and his best friend Victor.

Victor did not like me and I could sense that he resented the fact that Charlie would always follow me around; do as I said; and choose to spend time with me. Charlie and I would make sure we were always sitting right next to each other or alternatively I would instruct Charlie to sit directly opposite me. I don’t know when it began but we started touching each other under the table and I would look forward to school just for this. The frequency of this touching increased and I began to establish rules and conditions for Charlie where:

1) He could only touch me if he gave me something from his lunchbox;

2) He could only sit next to me if he showed me his private part;

3) He could only hold my hand if he allowed me to punch him in his stomach.

This dynamic went on for months where it was like we were in our own secret world that only we knew about. Any days where he was not in school meant I found myself unable to concentrate and my mind would wander, fantasising about him. The days where I was not in school led Charlie to visit my home to check on me. These demonstrations of care and attention made my affection for him grow. He and I had never been truly alone together so the first time he visited I told him we should spend time in my bedroom as there was something I needed to tell him. My mother left us to start making dinner and what followed marked a significant shift in everything between us. I led him into my room and asked him why he was there. He told me he had missed me at school and that he wanted to make sure that everything was okay and to give me homework that the teacher had passed on to him for me. I took the paper and threw it on to the floor. I told him to kneel at which point he started giggling. This made me feel anger and I told him to leave. I informed him that I would no longer tell him what I was previously planning on sharing and that we could not be friends anymore. He quickly got on his knees and asked again if I was okay – looking back, of course I was not okay. He obeyed, though, which I adored. I began circling him. He was no longer giggling. I told him that he was now my boyfriend and that I was his girlfriend. He didn’t speak, and I needed to know what he thought of this, so I asked him who his girlfriend was. He responded, “you are.” I can only describe the sensations I felt as an intense waves of childlike pleasure. I do not remember how that day ended. I just remember that after that moment we became inseparable.

Whenever we played games, they would always conclude with him tied to a chair or tied to a post, begging to be released. I enjoyed seeing his little white body wriggling under my torment, struggling helplessly to release himself. I would sometimes leave him for hours, conscious that no one knew he was down in the basement and that I could leave him there forever if I desired. We were like best friends with a secret. We were completely focused on each other. If I spoke to other children in the class and ignored him then he would become instantly jealous. I enjoyed playing with emotions, his in particular, even at this early age. I enjoyed seeing him upset. I enjoyed making him jealous. I enjoyed making him do things to gain my attention. By the time I had reached year six, I had grown steadily into a sadistic little 11 year old. During that final year of primary school, I lost Charlie. His parents found out about the mental and physical abuse I had subjected him to and they removed him from our school. I felt alone…lost.

Charlie was the first time I had experienced power over another human being and the craving for this feeling to return became insatiable. By the age of sixteen, I longed to have a slave to control 24/7 and devoted many months to a search for that ‘perfect slave.’ I found Drew four months before my seventeenth birthday. He finally moved in with me on the 21st of November, 2006. We celebrated with him receiving 200 strokes of my whip. This relationship lasted almost 6 years and it was within this relationship that I learnt about my true nature. He was 34 and I was 17. The age difference mattered to me. As far back as I could remember, I would always lust after older men. There was something that appealed as a result of the stereotype and expectation of him being the leader and of him taking advantage of the younger female whereas in reality behind closed doors he was on his knees and on my leash.

I was a teenager with very different ideas from my peer group. My peers would be arranging dates, going to raves; having casual sex; drinking; and smoking. I was out instead, spending my evenings looking for vulnerable men… drunk men. I was online watching femdom porn, masturbating in my room. I did not need to penetrate myself with the stimulation of touching and teasing just outside proving stimulation enough. The act of sex did not appeal to me. I seemed more focused on the seduction, the lure, the tease and the build-up. These desires grew into fantasies of kidnapping a man before partaking in forceful, degrading sex and engaging in sadomasochistic activities. Whilst some of my fantasies were realised with Drew, most remained untouched. I would soon learn that, although there are many submissive men available, I needed to have a certain level of compatibility. I needed to feel I was not roleplaying/playing a role and that he was genuinely terrified.

I have now reached a stage in my life where I am content. I am no longer searching for him. He found me. I do not believe having a D/s relationship will ever be easy or straightforward but it can be one of the most rewarding psychosexual experiences imaginable.

Now that I have created my first official website I hope to find loyal subjects who wish to please me; be teased by me; be controlled by me; and to meet those who wish to experience mental and/or physical female led domination.



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