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The Perfect Mistress

I've always had submissive leanings. When I was younger, I always did what my parents and my teachers told me. I never caused anyone any trouble, and I never had any trouble following the rules the way most people do. I always did what was expected of me. So when I learned about the D/s lifestyle, it wasn't like I was learning about something completely new. Some people might've said, "Wow, look at this whole new world that's opened itself up to me!" I, on the other hand, simply said, "Hmm, so that's what I've been doing all this time."

Upon discovering that there were other people like me, I decided that I should try to find someone whose desires would mesh with mine. I spent lots of time thinking of what exactly would constitute "The Perfect Mistress." At first, I just imagined that she'd be a young, slim American Mistress, and that was about all the thought I put into it.

But as time went on, I began adding to the list of attributes The Perfect Mistress should have. Eventually, my "young, slim American Mistress" became "a brown-haired, green-eyed American Mistress, 5'4" tall, 125 pounds, who loves humiliation, foot fetishists, and CBT." So as you can see, I became quite picky.

In addition to being picky, I also became ruthless about weeding out candidates who did not fit my ideal of The Perfect Mistress. It didn't matter if I liked these ladies as people or if our fetishes matched up perfectly. If they didn't have all the attributes of The Perfect Mistress, they were gone.

As you can imagine, my pool of candidates went from slim to none very quickly.

The Perfect Femdom Shows Up

It didn't take long before I became despondent. Surely, somewhere, there was The Perfect Mistress, right? A friend suggested to me that perhaps I should lower my standards. I responded by pointing out that I deserved The Perfect Mistress, simply by virtue of showing up and being submissive. My friend tried not to laugh at me, but didn't quite succeed.

One day, I got online and checked my email inbox on a certain fetish dating site. I had an email from a beautiful brown-haired, green-eyed American Mistress who was 5'4" tall, weighed 125 pounds, and loved humiliation, foot fetishists, and CBT! Imagine my surprise and delight! I couldn't believe I'd finally had the good fortune to find her.

I begged to be allowed to come worship her feet. I told her that she could do anything she wanted to me. She could humiliate me for my small penis, subject me to CBT, anything! My ship had finally come in!

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The "Perfect Mistress" Isn't Necessarily Perfect For Me

Only it hadn't. My "perfect Mistress" informed me that I was being far too forward and presumptuous. She also pointed out that I didn't know anything about her other than what she looked like and what her fetishes were. She told me that I was being shallow and looking at her as if she were fetish delivery service. I tried to argue, but she was firm on that point and wished me luck in my search and asked me not to contact her again.

I was crushed! Could she not see that I was The Perfect Submissive, right here ready to give her what she needed? How dare she call me shallow!

Finally, my aforementioned friend, feeling sorry for me, took me to a BDSM club one night. He asked me if I wanted to engage in a CBT session with one of the respected Mistresses there. I eagerly agreed. He told me that this Femdom Mistress was looking for a new man to practice her CBT skills on, but the only caveat was that I had to wear a black nylon hood that effectively blindfolded me while she did it.

Had this been somewhere other than a fetish club, I probably wouldn't have agreed to allow myself to be blindfolded and offered up to a Mistress I'd never met, but I knew the people there would look after me. Besides, I was dying to have some CBT!

To make a long story short, I'd never felt anything like it. By the time it was over, I was dying to meet the Mistress who'd done such a number on my cock and balls and made me feel so very submissive. I was led away from the play area and into another room. I heard a soft feminine voice say, "Worship my feet."

I kissed the foot that somehow ended up right under my nose. Then, my hood was removed. I looked up to see a tall, blonde Mistress in her mid-thirties smiling down at me. There she was--The Perfect Mistress! Only she was nothing like I'd envisioned at all!

But after three years in her collar, I can say that even though she wasn't "The Perfect Mistress," she's certainly the perfect Mistress for me.