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Chapter 21: Heartbroken.
In many ways, it was the worst, certainly the most disappointing moment of my life.
The whole road had been demolished and cleared of housing.
I stood there for hours, just staring and all sorts of thoughts going through my mind.
Eventually, I started rationalizing that perhaps all wasn't lost. She was bound to find some new, probably better place to perform as a mistress and I'd find her again.
She never did.
Years later, I've still never really come to terms with the fact that she just disappeared from the scene.
And of course, I've lost count of the times I've pondered the mystery; worked out all sorts of different scenarios of what might have happened.
But there are endless reasons as to why she would have suddenly left the professional mistress scene and I know now, - I'll never find out the real reason.
Those devious magazine people kept her advert in for months after. Her photo was just too good for them to miss out on the money gained from fruitless inquiries.
In fact that one photo was still being used in many S/M circles years later, especially in various magazines, as an example of a perfect fantasy dominatrix.
Naturally, I also kept replying, hoping that she'd started up again somewhere new.
I even kept looking through all the newspapers, half expecting to read of a sensational trial, with her up for grievous bodily harm or worse.
I also, a bit tongue in cheek, looked to see if any chained up, tortured bodies were found dumped somewhere.
Neither was ever reported.
Needless to say, all my subsequent visits to dozens of different professional mistresses over the years have been, well - pretty tame and disappointing.
How could I really expect anything different?
It's not really the mistress's fault. They must think I'm some sort of nut as I can never really explain, or even know myself anymore, exactly what I want the mistress to do to me.
At the first mistress I went to after that afternoon, assuming that I was now capable of enduring some serious torture, I amazed myself by panicking at the very start and signalling for her to stop!
Feeling a bit foolish, I did explain that the previous mistress had gone over the top and I hadn't yet recovered.
Indeed, the evidence was still there quite clearly all over my body.
She was professionally outraged at what had happened to me, (of course, I didn't relate the full story) and said I should have taken some sort of action afterwards.
I didn't tell her that the only action I felt like taking now was to find her and once again, completely surrender to that beautiful sadist.
I eventually realized though, that even had I found her and we'd had another session, there was no possible way I could have relived again, all the incredible and varied emotions I went through that afternoon.
I'd have loved just to be able to see her just once again and find out her subsequent thoughts on how she treated me.
Did she ever wonder, in the short period she had left there, why I never revisited or even collected my gear?
What would her reaction have been, opening the door and seeing me standing there?
She must still think of me occasionally. They say women never forget their 'first' and she surely was never able to indulge herself so uninhibitedly at any time since.
A sobering thought is that even had I unlimited wealth and could comb the world employing the most beautiful women to torture me, I still couldn't guarantee I'd experience any like the huge orgasm I'd had early on that afternoon.
And no matter how much I was willing to pay, I certainly could never relive the dread and terror I felt in the second half of the session, when at times, I seriously thought I was about to be tortured to death.
And when I start playing with myself in bed at night, nearly always it's that second period that my thoughts turn to and it still never fails to produce some arousing and exhilarating eruptions.
So considering all my sexual experiences in the Pro/Dom scene in the years since that fatal visit have been something of an anti-climax, to put it mildly; all in all, would I have been better off had I never seen that particular advert?
I'll let whoever reads my narrative of that afternoon make up his own mind.
I've finally made up my own mind, but I'm keeping my conclusions on that subject strictly to myself.
END.
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