If you wish to reach me without annoying me, read this first — and read it well.
You may send me exactly four types of mail: Begging, Thanking, Feedback, and Something Else. Each has its own purpose, its own subject line, and — in two cases — its own ritual to be performed before you ever touch the keyboard.
These hold no matter which of the four mails you are sending.
There is exactly one way to address me, and it is Ma'am. Not "Mistress Stone." Not "Ms. Stone." Not "Elara." Ma'am. That is the whole of it.
The very first sentence of every mail must contain the word Ma'am. Beyond that, the words are yours: "Good morning, Ma'am," or "So happy to write to you again, Ma'am," or "I disagree, Ma'am," or simply "Ma'am." Anything you like — so long as that opening sentence carries the word.
Every mail closes the same way:
Humbled and [X],
<your name>
The [X] is yours to choose — a single word or a short phrase that honestly names the state you are in as you write: Humbled and aroused. Humbled and aching. Humbled and restless. Humbled and a little dizzy today. Anything at all, as long as it begins with "Humbled and."
Why? Because it forces you to stop, to feel, and to name what is stirring inside you. It makes you more open, more vulnerable, more seen — a little thermometer on your wrist that only I can read. It keeps you available to me, and to yourself.
Begging exists to solve a single problem: there is something you would like from me. But men do not ask me. You are not allowed to ask me for information, and you are not allowed to put questions to me. If you need something that genuinely requires my attention, the only door open to you is begging.
Do not walk through that door often. Before you do, stop and think: do I truly want to bother her with this? A stupid question — "where do I apply on your website?" — is not something to beg for. There is no need. You will find your answer yourself if you simply look. If you pepper me with questions whose answers you could find on your own, you are not communicating; you are annoying me.
And if you have come to love the act of begging for its own sake, and so you invent reasons to do it again and again — know that this is deeply irritating to me. Why? Because begging is given priority. When I see it, I tell myself that perhaps this man truly needs something, and I make time I did not have to spare. Do not waste that.
So when is begging proper? A few examples:
The procedure is long and demanding on purpose. Follow it exactly:
Only afterward, once you are dressed and composed, do you write the mail. Describe what you begged for and the thoughts and feelings you had during the act. It is also preferable that you tell me the time you did it, where in your home you did it, and how you made certain no one would disturb you — for this is an extremely private thing to do.
Subject: Begging — and it must be a brand-new thread, never a reply to any earlier mail.
And no preludes. I do not want you explaining to me why you are begging, the whole process that went on in your head, how you came to the conclusion that you must beg, or how terribly sorry you are to be begging at all. None of it. I do not care about it, and it annoys me. The begging itself is fifteen words — no more.
Thanking is how you express deep gratitude to me — for anything at all. It need not be for a privilege I have granted you. You might thank me for the beautiful stories I write, for being such a good friend to you, for being the only one you can truly talk to and open yourself up to, for the inspiration you feel after reading my work — or for anything else that fills you with gratitude. When it rises in you, express it properly.
The ritual:
Then, in a quiet moment, put it into writing. Write a paragraph, or two, or as many as you like — but every line must be about your gratitude. Do not tell me about your grandmother. Do not slip in requests. Do not ask me anything. Simply focus on how thankful you are.
Subject: Thanking You — and, as with every mail, it must stand entirely on its own.
Feedback is where you tell me what you think of my work. In such a mail you may write whatever you wish about the book — and about me, and about my words. You may compliment me, flatter me, kiss my ass if you like. That is all perfectly fine. What you may not do is thank me or ask me anything; this mail is for your thoughts alone.
The subject line must state the book, the chapter (if one applies), the word Feedback, and an index number. For example:
True Femdom 2, Chapter 8, Feedback 4
This is where everything else lives. Choose any subject you like and say whatever you want: tell me about your sick mother, or the trouble your son is having at school, or how much you hate me, or how hopelessly infatuated with me you are. Tell me how the weather is in Los Angeles. That is all fine.
What you must not do is ask me naive little questions — "when did you start writing?" and the like. If there is an answer you truly must have — if you genuinely need to know how old my son is, to the point where you are willing to kneel naked on the floor and kiss my insteps for it — then by all means, do exactly that. That is begging, and it has its own place above.
Within a Something Else mail, do not thank me, and do not give me feedback. Keep it to itself, like all the rest.
This is the one I most want you to understand, because men do it constantly without ever noticing. "Topping from the bottom" is when a man, from his lowly position, quietly takes the reins — making me respond, setting his own terms, deciding what I think, steering the whole exchange to his liking, all while dressed up as humility.
Let me show you what I mean. The mail below is invented, but I receive its cousins all the time:
Subject: A Humble Request for My Mistress
Ma'am, I have done exactly as you asked — I am on the floor, naked, and I will stay right here waiting until you tell me what you would have me do next.
I am begging to be considered as one of your beta readers, but only if you promise to write back and let me know either way, because the not-knowing is torture for me.
By the way, your latest chapter left me breathless. You are, without question, the finest writer this genre has ever had, and I think of your words every single day.
I can just picture you smiling as you read this, imagining me down here on the floor.
Devotedly yours,
A faithful servant
It reads as submissive. It is the opposite. Here is everything wrong with it:
And now understand how seriously I mean this: topping from the bottom is the single worst turn-off there is for me. The instant it happens I am switched off completely — and it can take me months to come back from it. In my mind there is simply no room for it. I cannot comprehend a man taking over, dictating to me, telling me what to do. It is, to me, absolutely unacceptable.