Introduction

Good evening.

Most of you will not have heard my name before, and that is precisely how it should be. I am Aanna Vandermeer—yes, those Vandermeers—and I have lately found myself with rather too much idle time between the season in Gstaad and the usual obligations in London and Palm Beach. A discreet acquaintance suggested this forum might provide a certain… diversion. I confess I am intrigued.

I have no interest in spectacle or vulgar displays. What appeals is the quiet, inevitable correction of hierarchy: when a woman who ought to know better presumes herself my equal, or when a man—poor creature—believes his brute strength entitles him to anything at all. Both are delicious to disabuse. I find that a slow, methodical application of leverage, usually delivered by my thighs or the weight of my hips, ends the delusion far more elegantly than shouting ever could. Men, in particular, break so prettily once they realize their muscles are merely decoration.

If you move in the proper circles, or aspire to, and you feel you have something worth risking—reputation, pride, perhaps a little more—then by all means send a private message. References will be required, naturally; I do not entertain the merely curious or the newly rich. Until then, I shall watch from the shadows and decide which of you most deserves a lesson in breeding.

A.V.

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