Sparking Imagination & Inspiration:
The Writings of Cynthia Adcock
Author of Men's Erotica
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Welcome to my World of BDSM My Life and Times as the
Face-Sitting Queen of the Northeast
Welcome to my world of being an dominatrix. It is a frank, uncensored and sometimes hilarious account of the clients that stepped over my threshold.
How I started out in the BDSM world which finally gave birth to me as a dominatrix and a very much desired larger lady perfect for smothering, crushing and trampling.
The book is intertwined with my real-life experiences that lead me to the woman I am today; strong, independent and force to be reckoned with and an incredible ability to cripple men with expert ease while discovering my talent for beating and torturing men for a living.
Want to know about the real BDSM world then this is the book for you. Want to know what men really want? Then be prepared to be shocked and disgusted. The colour grey does not exist within my book only black and blue, and sometimes bloody.
Confessions of a Dominatrix
The Life and Times of
Mistress Cynthia
This book based on my experiences as a dominatrix. My chosen form of domination was a domestic dominatrix as a headmistress, a wicked step-mother, a strict aunt and even a perverted mother-in-law.
Click on picture UK
I have to say that I never saw myself becoming an escort. To be honest, I didn’t even think I was escort material for one second, but the interest the pictures I uploaded onto a certain adult website just blew me away. You see, I have always been a fat lass with tree trunks for legs and head crushing thighs Thankfully, for some there is no accounting for taste. However, each to their own wants and desires.
It all started completely out if the blue and to be honest I didn’t realise how good I would be at torturing men for a living.
However, my biggest surprise came when I discovered the boys were mad for my unshaven haven. I didn't even have to trim my pubic hair.
I am your typical pear-shaped woman, all arse with not too much in the tit department. I was known as a ‘fat-ass bitch’, a name of my own choosing, I might add. I was unaware back in my younger days that my rear-end would one day be worth its weight in gold!
EXCERPT - How I started out.
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It would seem there are a lot of guys out there who want to spend their money and time on me, and as it turned out not just from this this country thanks to the world wide web. So, why should I deprive them? I am in this situation yet again, thanks to my ex-husbands, so why should I not allow these men help me out of a bad situation? I always lost out when the marriages ended; this was my time to come out on top. And to be honest, that was what a lot of guys wanted, the full weight of my body on top of them, crushing them!
Most of the guys that arranged to see me were skinny, meaning I was often more than twice their weight. I found myself becoming slightly crueller and more twisted, laying on my back while on top of them and bouncing on them, loved hearing them cry out in pain, grunting and groaning and gasping for breath, getting a kick out of them struggling to breathe beneath me. Them writhing to get free gave me such a buzz – maybe I was imagining they were one of my exes. With this ‘feather’ in my cap, I began to promote myself as the Face-Sitting Queen of the Northeast, offering suffocation, strangulation, crushing and trampling and my speciality, breath-play.
So, I would take on my first client and let the battle begin!
He sounded quite nice on the phone, begging me to allow him to visit me. Still uncertain, I kept repeating that I was only available for chat and cam. However, he persisted offering me more money, and telling me he would treat me like a princess. Finally, I was convinced of his offerings and agreed.
My biggest concern was the lateness of the night, 11pm, and because the remoteness of my location. Even taking all this into consideration, I decided I had to start somewhere. As I said, he sounded nice and genuine and young, about half my age.
Five minutes later than arranged, he arrived. I had left the outside light on for him to find me. Well, when he got out of his car, he looked nothing like he sounded. In fact, I thought to myself, ‘God, if I met him in the daylight, I’d have crossed the street to avoid walking past him!’ He was pasty skinned – there was obviously not too much sunshine in his life – slightly hunched, tattooed, and had several face and ear piercings.
A thought flashed through my brain, making me slightly sick to my stomach. What the fuck have I done? Too late to back out, he was already coming in the door.
Trying my best to not show he was my first, I faced the stranger sitting quietly on my sofa and as calmly as I could muster, I asked him, “So, what are you wanting?”
To which he replied, getting straight to the point, “I want to fuck you.”
Composing myself, I walked past him and gestured towards my bedroom as he followed behind me. We both undressed and climbed onto the bed, and he did indeed fuck me. It was quite normal, just straightforward fucking. One thing for sure he did not come to talk.
Finally, he did speak and asked if I did anal. I faltered and stuttered my reply, then breathed a sigh of relief when I heard him say that it didn't matter. After about half an hour he climbed off the bed, stood beside me, and started wanking until he came over my thigh. After which he settled up, thanked me, dressed, and left.
That was it. I had seen my first client and, to be honest, he and the meeting were not as bad as I’d anticipated. I mean, come on, we’ve all had one-nighters with a stranger. Anyway, I had survived yet again.
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