No matter how much time you may have spent gazing longingly over those amazing photos on her website, nothing can really prepare you for how impossibly stunning Mistress Kiana is. Mistress Kiana opens the door to me, I catch my first glimpse of her, and I am instantly mesmerised. She has a face of such angelic beauty, with her wicked smile, and that devilish look in her eyes, it’s a devastating combination. My jaw drops, throat goes dry, knees go weak, and heart goes drum’n bass… as I’m ordered inside and led to her dungeon.
Before long, I’m naked, collared and leashed, on my hands and knees, and gazing up in awe at the Goddess of my dreams. One of the things I’d requested before the session was body worship. As Mistress Kiana removed her robe, I realized that hers is not just the kind of body you worship… it’s the kind of body you make a pilgrimage to. She has the most heavenly, scrumptious, heartbreakingly gorgeous arse you could ever dare to dream of. The kind you want to dedicate sonnets to. She knows it. She torments you with it. And she delights in your helpless plight. I soon discover that there is an added dimension to being humiliated by someone with such flawless, physical beauty. I’ve never felt so inadequate. The verbal abuse stings in a way it never has done before; and the humiliation intensifies as I feel myself becoming more and more besotted with her. I’m ordered to my dog bowl, and I eagerly comply, as I’m told, in no uncertain terms, exactly what I am, and what I’m there for.
Next, Mistress Kiana straps me to her bench, and the nipple torture begins. As I start to feel that sharp, searing, exquisite pain, she smiles, teases, laughs, mocks, and fixes my gaze with that “‘we both know you’re my bitch now” look in her eyes. We share that look of mutual knowledge – we both know that she’s broken me, and we both know that we both know it. She works her magic, sends me tumbling deeper and deeper into submission, and plays me like a virtuoso, teasing me with games I cannot win, where losing is the sweetest bliss. Before my encounter with Mistress Kiana, I had never known what it felt like to really beg for something. I mean, I already knew what it was like to say those begging words you do when a Mistress tells you to. But this experience was of a different order. She takes you to the precipice of ecstasy, those full, pouting lips, dripping with temptation, draw ever closer, and then she whispers in your ear, tells you all about yourself, and slaps you back to reality. Every cell in your body is pleading, yearning, beseeching this Goddess. I’m no hardcore masochist but I would have suffered all kinds of pain for her, as well as all manner of humiliation. In fact, the truth is, there were moments when I think I would have done whatever the hell she told me to. Mistress Kiana seemed genuinely amused by the desperate, dog-panting, begging pleas she made me perform for the privilege of drinking her holy nectar. I don’t think I’ve ever yearned for anything so much in my life. And she’d driven me to a state of such deep, intense, submissive longing, I don’t think I’ve ever found it so easy to drink every last drop.
Mistress Kiana always remembered exactly what I’d requested before the session, while still managing to make the whole experience incredibly spontaneous and unpredictable. It never felt as though she was just going through the motions. She seemed to take genuine delight in the power she had over me. After the session, Mistress Kiana was so utterly lovely, charming, warm, genuine, entrancing… I could go on… as you may have gathered, I’m completely smitten. If you are fortunate enough to visit Mistress Kiana, expect similar effects. She is in a league of her own. I’m well and truly hooked. Further details are for me to dwell upon, relive and cherish – as I have done obsessively since our last meeting. Those wise enough and fortunate enough to visit her, will discover their own.