My testimonial to Master Samael

It took me a while to accept my esteemed colleague's offer to flog me. I knew Master Samael is one of the best impact tops I know. I knew his standards of safety were exceptionally high, and I knew he was an excellent communicator. And perhaps because of that, I hesitated. I was anxious that I wouldn't be able to take "enough" for him—for us. After all, I know my pain threshold isn't particularly high, and I don't enjoy receiving within a power dynamic, both of which are outside his usual way of playing.

I'm going through a challenging period in my private life, so feeling connected, held, and respected in the way I receive was more important than ever.

Master Samael began by scratching my body with the care and attention of an artist standing before a fresh canvas. Then his palms took over and he started spanking me. The impact travelled through every bone in my body, rushing all the way to my head. In that moment, I suddenly felt the presence of the hundreds of people who had stood beneath those same hands over more than twenty years of his dominance—every experience shaping the skill with which he was touching me now.

I wasn't an easy receiver. As a masochist, I'm well out of practice these days, so I kept bossing him around. He met every single request with patience and care, allowing me to shape my own experience completely. Around half an hour into the session, my pain high had arrived, so I asked him to use the cat-o'-nine tails.

He struck the same spot on my back again and again with such precision that it felt as if the room froze around us. My respect for his skills and my pleasure slowly transformed the pain and everything began to flow on its own. By then I was deep in trance, barely aware of anything beyond our interaction.

Then he switched to the whip. The strikes echoed between my skin and my bones; one sensation barely had time to fade before the next arrived. It felt as though I had entered a perfectly rhythmic, uninterrupted current of intensity washing through my flesh.

Completely letting go within the connection that held us, I began using my deepest breathing technique. The rest of the world disappeared. I floated in a vast inner spaciousness. Everything dissolved. Everything melted. Even the physical boundaries of my own body became fluid and soft.

Then, suddenly, like a heavy cloud rolling in, profound sadness took hold of me. I didn't resist it. I accepted it and allowed it to wash over me. My tears began to flow.

Yet behind that cloud I felt more alive than ever.

So I asked him to continue.

The intensity blew the clouds away, leaving only raw sensation. But slowly the sadness returned, together with the tears, even stronger than before. This time I simply let it happen.

Master Samael held me from behind, and I knew he was there with me, beyond words. We sat down on the floor, and I cried in his arms for a long time.

He softened into doing exactly what I needed in that moment—the hardest thing of all: simply being there. No words. No trying to cheer me up. No rushing the process. He let me be with myself, let me take all the time I needed, while making sure I never felt alone.

It takes a true master to know when to be strong and intense, and when to soften into something entirely different. It takes strength, empathy, and the absence of egoism to meet someone exactly where they are—not challenging my pain threshold, not imposing a power dynamic, not trying to repair my sadness.

That, to me, is true professionalism.

Being deeply seen and fully accepted is where real power lies.