Small plates lead to naughty kinks. As an edging domme in London, Tulsi Tamora reflects on her recent exploits from a candlelit dinner to complete submission. Having teased us with body worship before, this is bound to have you on the edge of your seat… 

We began our wonderful day with a chance to get to know each other. My date confessed to me over email that he’d always had a fantasy of giving up control of his sexuality to a beautiful, powerful curvy mistress such as myself. He’d spend hours every night reading and watching edging erotica, shuddering at the delicious thought of being pinned down, delicately teased, brought to the brink of pleasure, and then cruelly denied. The prospect of being controlled, perhaps even humiliated, in this way stoked a deep flame inside him. Yet, he’d never been able to express it to more vanilla long term partners. Out of shyness and shame, his true desire remained snuffed out. His yearning to really feel something real – however out of the ordinary he might fear it might be – drove him to me. 

I suggested we go for dinner to get to know each other before delving deeper. As a long-time explorer of kink on the London scene, I know that spending time together allows for a truly genuine, sensual connection to form. It’s only through relaxing in each others’ company, sharing stories, and enjoying indulgent activities that our bodies can warm up, fall deeply into our hidden desires. And my date certainly found this to be true. Over tapas, we indulged in the sensory relish of small plates, our laughter carrying us to a truly comfortable, authentic rapport. 

Michelin stars weren’t the only thing we were thinking of that dinner. As well as planning our date, we’d organised a little kinky play. I was dressed in a tight red dress, with matching red lipstick and heels. Accordingly, my date was dressed smartly too – and underneath his crisp trousers strained a metal chastity cage. I made sure to trace my hand over his, rub my foot on his under the table, and smile him a lovingly wicked smile that I knew would make him yearn to be free from his chastity cage. Once in a while, I would lean forward over the tasting menu to ensure he got a flash of my cleavage, and the silver key his cage, nestled within. Of course, we were discreet – the waiting staff had no idea that this dapper man sitting across me was in tortuous heaven. 

Once I’d decided my date was sufficiently hot and bothered, we retired to our beautiful hotel suite. There was no need to speak on the lift upwards – we both knew the pleasure that awaited us. Once settled, I instructed him to wait on the bed, while I dressed into a beautifully see through lingerie set that caressed my curves. When I emerged, he was naked bar his cage. The connection we’d built over dinner had allowed us to reach this point, where he felt safe enough to expose himself to me, lying on those crossroads between pain and pleasure. 

I leant over, softly tracing my fingers across his skin. His neck. His lips. My lips grazed his, turning into a passionate, deep kiss. All the while, my hands continued to rove and graze, my light touches setting him on fire, while my bust rubbed on him. I could feel him trembling, desperately yearning to be free. So, I delicately took the key to his cage and unlocked it. He may have thought his ordeal was over, but he’d asked me to really, truly, tease him. And so, we were just at the beginning. Taking him in my hand, I started to rub and caress him, pinning him down gently with my other hand, kissing him softly. When I could feel him start to writhe in my hand, urgently needing his release, I cruelly slowed down. There was no greater pleasure I got than controlling him in this way. With a smile in my eye, I slowed down further and further, until I was barely grazing him, and he was crying out for more …

Would he ever get sweet release? Or would he be subject to my lovingly strict regime? Well that, dear reader, is for you to find out in person …