Intimate Encounters


SKU e-book Category

178 in stock


By Rose Budworth-Levine

ISBN: 978-1-84747-202-1
Published: 2007
Pages: 96
Key Themes: erotica, depression, realationships, BDSM, dominatrix




‘Intimate Encounters’ is the life story of a very well known mistress and sex godess. ‘Intimate Encounters’ documents a rather extraordinary rollercoaster of a life – the heartaches, laughter, fear, excitement and journey into the world of becoming a professional dominatrix. This book covers Rose’s whole life. From growing up, to marriage and divorce, being a mum and venturing into a career as a sex worker. Rose reveals all in this sophisticated, enlightening and revealing exclusive. She writes about her sessions, slaves, admirers and enlightens the reader on the secret world of BDSM. This is an incredible and invigorating read which contains distinctly adult themes.

About the Author

Rose Budworth-Levine is the pseudonym for a very well known dominatrix based in England. She has been a professional mistress for several years and has many clients. She is a friendly mistress in person and before sessions begin but that does not mean that she is not fully in control when a session starts. Rose Budworth-Levine has been a professional dominatrix for several years now and plans to move on to another career in the next year or so.

Book Extract

Where does one start to write a book about a lifetime full of promises and adventure, and where the heartaches bleed you dry, and where because of your lost innocence as a child you end up subconsciously as an adult with the driving ambition for an alternative lifestyle. A lifestyle which takes you on an emotional roller coaster, that last for months and years of your life, and me a woman of wanton love lust and desire.
A journey that entwines and encompasses some of the magical mysteries of the human flesh and the physical needs of both species, but leaves you none the wiser, as to what makes the species tick emotionally and sexually.

A journey that brings smiles, laughter, excitement, fear and the many tears that scars and wounds you deeply from the gathering pace of relationships that come and go in your tumultuous life. One that peels and exposes your inner self, layer by layer, as you continually feel the exhilaration and the pumping heartbeats pounding your breasts, as with each touch of a hand or caress on your flesh you feel vulnerable, naked and confused even scared, as a new pulsating man climbs abroad your waiting torso, without any thought to my sensitivity, my feelings and my desires of wanting to be loved. He smiles, he looks, he wants to run and hide, he says, ‘I’ll see you around’ as he leaves my side. What more can I do, I am female, I am capable of taking the next, and the next, and the next man in succession, but always they deliver the same coldness, as they prise your virtues from you and leave with there dignity limp, shrivelled and rather forlorn for the five banging minutes they have given me. So what the hell does all this tell me as a woman, what does this mean for man, as at the end, he leaves you with a spent force and you empty inside and left wondering whether you are even sane and of the same human species, are there any normal men out there, are any capable of loving me a woman, a complex woman such as I. It may began with a look, a touch and a few silly words that made us lie together or could it have been the alcohol or could it have been me who was the romantic, as his hand felt my knee and wandered up my thigh under the hem of my dress.
Only the reader can decide for him or herself, but can you decide, are you just as confused as me with your relationship that began with your passions all aflame and burning brightly as you kissed.

Well I suppose I should begin with me, who am I? My name is Rose Budworth-Levine and if you believe that you believe anything. I am a born fantasist and romantic and despite my persona I believe in Karma, I believe in the tooth fairy and I believe in prince charming even though I met and married a couple of frogs along the way. I was born about forty years ago, give or take a couple of years and was raised and bought up in the South of England along with my two brothers and working class parents. I always thought of my childhood as being pretty normal apart from being singled out from an early age as a gifted child and being on the plump side. But perhaps as his story unfolds it wasn’t quite as normal as most.

My parents were to divorce late in life. They stuck it out for nearly 35 years, I am not sure whether my mother deserved a medal for that or a certificate in stupidity and ignorance. All I know is our childhood upbringing helps to mould our future. All families have their little secrets, and I do not blame my parents for my quirky little habits but there are some things we need to keep private from our children and one of them is our bedroom secrets which is why I have written this book anonymously, I don’t really want my daughter reading them.

So lets start with my mother who was a very attractive woman, with the figure of Sophia Loren; well that’s how I remember her. She was bought up from a working class family her father worked for the same firm all of his life. She was a church goer and had the voice of an angel. She had been chosen to be an opera singer quite young but her parents could not afford to send her to Switzerland so she never realized her ambitions and then her mother was struck down with multiple sclerosis when my mother was in her teens so she had to care for her younger sister. We all have dreams and my mother is no different from the rest of us. She wanted to be a draughtswoman, she was a gifted painter but her uncle who worked for a well known razor blade company suggested that being a draughtswoman was not a woman’s job. So she left home at 19 when she met my father. She was clever, resourceful and spent her time at home with all of us; she worked hard at being a good parent, and teaching us the joys of macramé, painting and anything else that came to mind. She took part time jobs in between looking after us to make ends meat. She was patient and a skilled dressmaker who taught me how to sew at the age of seven. I could make my own clothes by the time I was a teenager.



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