One of the biggest misconceptions about my work is that I must dislike men. I understand why people assume it. Popular culture has painted Dominatrices as angry women in latex, taking revenge on the opposite sex one whip at a time. We're often portrayed as cruel, bitter or somehow seeking to punish. If the session calls for such disciplined, then of course the role is established with aplomb. But behind every great scene is a reality that begins with trust and mutual rapport.

They say that youth is wasted on the young. I would argue that wisdom is wasted on the seasoned. Somewhere beyond forty, society quietly attempts to close the curtain. The script suggests that sexuality should soften, shrink, or politely retire into the background. Desire, apparently, has an expiration date. Confidence should dim. Adventure should become memory rather than possibility. I reject that entirely. Because the truth is that time does not diminish sexuality. It refi