Coming from a very conservative Arab household I was not allowed the same freedoms as my western friends. As soon as I was able to fly the nest, the leash had been broken. When I went to university I was finally free. Men, who I had spent my early years avoiding eye-contact with were in and out of my life and my bed on a regular basis. I was good. The best. But the men I was with were, more often than not, very disappointing. I was bringing my A game and they were only there to serve themselves. I had no interest in these inattentive, selfish men, but I persisted in the hope that I would find someone worthy of my talents.

A few months into my new, liberated lifestyle as a lady of the night I was contacted by a man who spoke to me like no one had spoken to me before. “Hello mistress,” he began. “You’re so beautiful – please allow me to serve you. I want to drink copious amounts of your wee and make you happy if you’ll permit me. Kind regards, your oral slave.”

I was shocked and intrigued. I had never presented myself as a mistress and I’d never met anyone who wanted to drink piss. I was very naive! But my curiosity was certainly piqued and, as the saying goes, the rest is history. I have not looked back from this experience. My new slave greeted me properly, with his hands behind his back. He served me my favourite drink and gave me a massage. Within 20 minutes of meeting this man I must have had 4 pints of water and, as an inevitable result, I could hold it in no longer. I ordered the slave to lay on his back as I squatted over his mouth. He was salivating and squirming, like a thirsty dog in anticipation. I took aim and let out a long stream of piss into his mouth. I could hear him gulping frantically so as not to waste a drop. I left absolutely enthralled by the experience. This was the first man to drink my piss, the first man to be my slave, and my first introduction to the life of a dominatrix.

Will you be next?