Delicious Deviance with a San Francisco Dominatrix
There’s something delicious about a kink date in San Francisco with a creative Mistress like Me. The city is alive with history—its leather bars, its proud flag-lined streets, its shops filled with restraints and toys that have broken in thousands before you. San Francisco is the perfect playground for a Dominatrix like Me, and for the submissives brave enough to serve Me in public.
Discreet Public Play: My Rules in the Streets
The scene begins before we’ve even left the hotel. You stand before Me, eyes lowered, as I fasten your cock cage and slide a small, weighted plug inside you. I watch your posture change instantly—the way your breath shortens, the way your hips stiffen. I smile, because I know you’re already Mine, and yet the day hasn’t even started.
San Francisco is the perfect city for this. Crowds everywhere, but no one knows your secret. You walk a half-step behind Me as I lead us toward famous leather and kink shops like Mr. S Leather so I can pick out new gear. The store smells of history, of sweat, of polished leather that’s absorbed decades of devotion. I let My fingers trail across restraints, floggers, gleaming rows of metal toys, while you stand silent, waiting for me to make my selections while the pressure of your plug reminding you of your place.
I make you carry the bag. Each purchase I hand to you is another layer of ownership—restraints, cuffs, lube, and a strap-on you’ll soon come to know intimately.
A Pause for Lunch
Control doesn’t pause just because we sit down to eat for lunch somewhere in San Francisco. At the restaurant, I let My foot rest against your thigh under the table. My heel presses into you discreetly while I sip My wine. You stutter when the server asks you a question—adorable. You’re nervous, aroused, and acutely aware of what waits for you once we leave. I lean in, whispering casually about how long you’ll last with My strap-on buried inside you. Your face flushes crimson, but you nod and answer, “Yes, Goddess.”
No one else knows. But you know. That’s what makes it perfect.
Back to the Dungeon
The city is loud, but the dungeon is quiet—the kind of quiet that presses down on your chest the moment the door closes. I make you kneel immediately, strip off your clothes, and present yourself properly.
Your lips touch My boots first. You lick the leather, polish them with your tongue, and when I decide you’ve earned more, I slide My foot out and place it on your face. Worship Me. Show Me gratitude for being allowed to serve.
I move slowly, deliberately. I let you taste the strap-on, lips wrapping around it, taking it down as far as you can. Your gag reflex betrays you, but I’m patient. I stroke your hair while I remind you what’s coming.
Then I take you. Bent over, restrained, forced open—plug replaced with something far more insistent. You gasp. You squirm. And then you surrender. Every thrust is Mine. Every whimper is Mine. You are nothing but a body to be used and a mind to be broken in deeper.
The Aftermath
By the end, you’re trembling on the floor, forehead pressed against My boots once more. The city outside hums along, oblivious, but in this moment, you know the truth: you didn’t just have a kink date with San Francisco dominatrix Mx Tomie. Mx Tomie gave you a memory that will haunt your body every time you daydream about My strap-on, every time you think about your cock in a cage, every time you walk past a shop window and remember who made you carry the bag.
A day with San Francisco dominatrix Mx Tomie is never just a date. It’s a ritual of control that follows you home, into your dreams, into every breath you take after.
