Riley’s Reserve
April was a month of small celebrations and quiet indulgences. I marked three years of calling Melbourne home with a night at France Soir, a champagne and bottle of Montrachet deep, wrapped in the warm glow of unexpected gifts. Mr V, ever generous, made the evening even sweeter, surprising me with another bottle of Dries Van Noten, a reminder of how far I have come and how deeply I am seen.
But April was not just about nostalgia. It was a month of exploration too, of soft confessions, daring touches, and the quiet thrill of discovering what happens when you let yourself want more. As a professional submissive, I have long lived in the art of yielding, but this month stirred something new. In my personal life, I found myself leaning into a more dominant space, a slow and curious shift that has led me to begin formally exploring my education as a Dom. Some experiences deserve to stay just between us, but know that every encounter left me a little more undone, a little more alive.
Perhaps most exciting of all, I have finally begun planning surgery for late next year, a long-held dream that will bring my body into closer alignment with how I see and feel myself. It is a quiet kind of joy, the kind that hums beneath the surface, reminding me that becoming is just as beautiful as being.
As May begins, I find myself lingering in these memories and craving even more. Care to create memories with me? You can do so by contacting me here.
Availability & Tours
May finds me based in Melbourne, with a handful of opportunities available for those who would like to spend some time together.
My monthly calendar will not be available this month, as my schedule is a little less predictable than usual. If you would like to know my current availability, you are welcome to enquire about it here.
I am also considering a tour to Hobart later this year. If meeting me there holds some appeal, I welcome you to express your interest here. Alternatively, if another city is calling you, you are welcome to suggest it here.
For those a little further afield, my Fly Me To You offering remains open, providing the space to create something personal and entirely ours.
If time together has been on your mind, now may be the perfect moment to begin.
Service Spotlight
For those who read my last newsletter, you’ll remember my encounter with Sam, an unforgettable night where the balance of power shifted in the most delicious way. He started off in control, but it wasn’t long before he was on his knees, begging for more, caught between desire and submission.
A recent encounter left me more curious than ever about what else I am capable of. A somewhat frequent guest of mine, nicknamed Machete Guy (the story is best saved for another time), had invited me over last minute. From the moment I stepped inside, the energy in the air was different.
Usually so sure of himself, that night he was different. He was looking for something else entirely. A longing to be held, directed, controlled. And so, without a word of warning, this strong, 5'10" man found himself naked, asking to be humiliated.
I am not one to back away from a challenge. Before long, I had him on his knees, his mouth struggling to take me fully, pausing only to beg for more.
His breath, his body, his need all fed into something deep and commanding within me. I pushed him further, letting spit trail from my lips to his, pressing his face to the floor so I could reach him more easily, working him open until the only sounds left were the ones he could not hold back. The night stretched wild and shifting, but one truth remained. I left not as a passenger of pleasure, but as a woman firmly, exquisitely in command.
Something Surrendered was born from moments like this, a playful step beyond a traditional girlfriend experience. While it is not yet a formal Dom/sub offering, it holds the space for something more. If you find yourself curious about exploring surrender from the receiving end, or wondering what it might feel like to be gently but firmly directed, you are warmly invited to enquire here.
Sometimes all it takes is a moment to change everything.
Grindr is rarely my scene. If I am there, it is usually for a casual chat with clients or, very occasionally, an attempt at a dating life. I know, what a mess.
Mr Pre-Workout slid into my DMs, and while my inbox is usually flooded, his profile caught my eye. A similarly aged, muscular guy with his face out? In this economy? We spoke for all of five seconds before moving to text. Future husband material? I was not sure, but I was willing to find out.
After a lazy Easter Sunday spent talking to Mr Pre-Workout, he organised a coffee date for the next morning. Slightly nervous, I agreed and met him at 10 am sharp, south of the river. He was sexier in person, smelled fantastic, and matched my height. A win, frankly.
We yapped over coffee and a croissant for what felt like minutes but somehow turned into hours. Our plans for a river walk were firmly out the window. Thank God. I hate working out. I suggested we find a second venue. We ended up at Ned’s, chasing a decent decaf and a change of scenery.
Something about him made me want to rip his clothes off. Badly.
He knew I had a 1 pm commitment. At 12:15 he suggested we head back to mine so I could freshen up. I thought it was considerate. Naturally, I missed every signal. As I was getting ready, he grabbed me by the waist, pushed me onto the bed, got on top of me, and whispered in my ear that I was a good girl.
Not what I was expecting. Hot as hell.
He flipped me over. I said I only had ten minutes. He said he would tell me when he was done. We kissed. Fast, greedy, breathless. Somehow I managed not to completely lose myself. What felt like thirty seconds became fifteen minutes. Then his phone went off.
He had set a timer. I cannot even be mad.
By the time I pulled myself together, my hair was a mess, my thong was soaked, and the scent of him clung to my skin and my sheets. He smacked my arse lovingly, told me to fix myself up, and insisted on driving me to my 1 pm.
From a quick number swap to heavy petting, decaf detours, and being bundled into a work ute, hot and flustered, for my afternoon plans. Life comes at you fast.
Confessions of a Good Girl
A Recent Affair: A Moment of Grace at Gigi
I would be lying if I said what is happening in the world for transgender people has not been weighing heavily on me. First the US, then the UK, and soon it seems New Zealand and Australia. It is a terrifying time to exist as a transgender woman, watching rights being stripped away.
It is easy to feel lost in it all. Which is why the quiet, steady moments of care have never mattered more.*
What has not changed is my shared love of hospitality, fashion, and fine moments with Mr V. We speak often, a quiet thread of connection I never take for granted. I had mentioned to him that the weight of the world, and some private challenges, had left me feeling a little low.
Without hesitation, he booked a table for two at Gigi in Prahran, only a stone's throw from work. What I had forgotten to mention is that Mr V is not only a lover of good food and wine but also the person I trust most with my growing fashion obsession. He knew I had my eye on a skirt from Henne, the perfect match to a jacket he had recently gifted me.
We met at 4:30 pm. I left work early. It pays to be the boss. Within minutes, we were perched at Entrecôte, a glass of Burgundy in hand. Before he could even ask how I was, I had already spilled everything onto the table. He calmly, without judgement, picked each thread back up, holding space while I found my breath again.
Thankfully, he kept an eye on the time. Just as I was about to spiral into another story, he gently reminded me that Henne would be closing soon. Minutes later, we were walking out of the store with the skirt in hand, a piece that felt like both armour and celebration.
At Gigi, we slipped into something slower. Our drinks and snacks arrived almost instantly, a rhythm only two people familiar with the dance of good hospitality can find.
The weight I had carried into the evening slowly lifted, and for the first time in days, I relaxed.
I confessed that I had nearly postponed our date. That I almost let the heaviness win. He simply nodded, reminding me that it would have been fine if I had. No guilt. No expectation. Just quiet understanding. And as I said it out loud, I realised I would have missed this — the ease, the distraction, the rare pleasure of being cared for without needing to armour myself first.
Before I could sip my second drink, he handed me a small package. Immediately, I knew. A bottle of Dries Van Noten Camomille Satin. I almost cried. There I was, spritzing perfume at the table, oblivious to anything around me but the giddy delight of being so thoughtfully seen.
The evening stretched long and languid. We spoke about everything and nothing. The kind of conversation that folds in on itself, leaving only a sense of fullness behind.
By the time we parted, I was not just grateful. I was nourished. Spoilt, seen, and reminded that in a world that can feel heavy beyond words, tenderness still holds its own kind of power.
It is easy to feel consumed by what is being taken from us. The rights, the space, the certainty we once moved through the world with. It is harder, and far more important, to hold onto what cannot be taken. Kindness. Presence. The quiet radical act of showing up for each other without expectation.
That night reminded me. Even in a world that demands we harden, there is still room to be soft. Still room to be loved, to be chosen, without needing to fight for it.
A night I will not soon forget.
Thank you again Mr. V
An Invitation to Support My Next Chapter
Over the past month, I have also taken some quiet but meaningful steps toward a long-held dream. I have recently had consultations for breast surgery, voice surgery, and facial surgery, with the intention of moving forward at the end of 2026 or the beginning of 2027.
While I deeply value and love the way I look now, I am incredibly excited about the prospect of deepening my femininity even further, to resemble, more and more, the woman I have always envisioned myself to be.
In light of this, I have added a new page to my website dedicated to raising funds to help support these goals. While I am steadily saving on my own, the total cost is anticipated to be close to $70,000.
If you find yourself feeling generous, and would like to support me in a way that sits outside the ordinary, you are warmly invited to contribute here.
Your kindness, in any form, never goes unnoticed.