On Keyholding

Keyholding has become an unexpected pleasure of mine. Goes along with my yen for subtle public humiliation, fine dining and domination, making you kneel on the sidewalk. Unfortunately, not every submissive is suited for such advanced bondage and denial of the natural male sexual drive to fuck everything that moves is sometimes an insurmountable obstacle. I, on the other hand, view long-term caging as the perfect tool for teaching you complete focus on me, my wants, wishes and desires. Perfect!

Chastity cage keyholding

How long do you think you could handle it? Being locked up tightly in chastity while in my presence? Intense compression? Teased and tormented by my subtle and unmistakable scent, direct looks and teasing touches? Knowing that you are fully on display to an unsuspecting world through the symbol of the key around a chain on my neck? Restraint inside of a CB6000 is rather unforgiving. Of course, your Mistress would be doing her level best to make sure your enjoyment was tempered with discomfort. All the while, treasuring the cool metal adorning her sking.

Chastity Mistress Keyholding NYC Dominatrix Mistress Martine Phoenix

I’ve previously written about the pleasures of chastity in other posts and have begun exploring keyholding with a new trainee. We haven’t gotten to that point of continuous caging. For him, at the moment, chastity is a temporary condition, a matter of hours, but something that I require whenever we are together. I use every opportunity he is locked in smooth, rigid plastic to push him further into submission, into his devotion to me.

There are other distractions, other obligations. Time is sometimes an enemy; logistics, too. However, in the face of an opportunity to fulfill a need so deep as to supersede the conventional retreat into safety, security, Suburbia; what is one to do but submit to the wishes of this ebony Goddess?

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A Random List of Pleasing Things

Pleasing. Pleasure. Precision. Discipline. Beauty. Manners. Impermanence. Sei Shonagon Kiyohara Nagiko has been working through my thoughts lately, a frequent character in my recent musings, especially her various lists of pleasing, worrying and distasteful things. Reading her Pillow Book, one can easily imagine her, a Mistress strict and demanding, shielded from the prying eyes of curious passers-by with silken screens. Men compelled to do her bidding are summoned to her side, always to be found wanting, later to be memorialized as irritations. Brush and inkstone and paper perpetually at the ready. Riding crop and whip partially hidden from casual view.

Her standards are high, nearly impossibly so. What good Mistress’s aren’t? I feel a kinship, to some degree, with her points of view ranging from the petty to the profound; intriguing how a 13th century Japanese lady-in-waiting informs and influences this 21st century New York City Dominatrix. What I keep rewinding and reviewing are the things and actions that move Me. Things that excite and inflame My senses. Over recent weeks, I have had much opportunity to reflect on those ideas and it seems appropriate to make my own (somewhat random) list of things that are pleasing to me, especially within the realm of service and D/s.

NYC Dominatrix Mistress Martine Phoenix

tightly braided singletail whips freshly unrolled from a mailing package
the feeling that blossoms when removing your silverware and feeding you solely from my plate
tight soft smooth jersey stretching smoothly over a lithe frame
sleekly manufactured colored seamed nylon stockings
the longing in your eyes when I secure the lock on your chastity cage
crudo: thinly sliced fish and sea salt and citrus decorated with the lightest splash of good olive oil
rattan canes made to crack and swish through the air landing on unmarked skin
human packages tied up in deliciously scented oily to the touch hemp rope, tightly
catsuits that hug so tightly move so closely and I forget they are on

NYC Dominatrix Mistress Martine Phoenix

boots. shiny boots. leather boots. platform and high heeled. zip or lace-up. to the knee or above
you worshiping those boots with no expectation of reward.
men wearing lacy panties under a tailored and proper business suit in anticipation of a meeting
spreading pink blushes
invading your space with my presence
invading your body with my needles sounds metal
crisp Sancerre served in beautifully blown glass
forbidding your speech in public
being deferred to
being served

…to be continued…

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Ideal service, 24/7.

You know how important service is to me and you want to be my slave. That’s not a position I take lightly. You will be expected to be impeccable in everything you do and, of course, there is a routine I’ll expect you to follow. Listen closely and pay attention.

Are you prepared to sleep on my floor, chained to the foot of my bed? After I unchain you, position yourself at my feet and worship them thoroughly while I lounge, planning my day. Breakfast is always your concern; acquaint yourself with the foods I like best and make sure they are constantly cooked to perfection. Once the kitchen is cleaned, everything put away in its proper place, you will be properly hydrated with a heavy stream of my golden piss. You’ll make sure to swallow every drop.

Is it necessary to emphasize that your service will involve being firmly in chastity? I didn’t think so. Any slave/pet/toy of mine would never be allowed to have control over such delicate body parts. You would be firmly locked away at my whim and pleasure. Doesn’t that make drawing my bath and viewing my exquisite body while I soap lather soak rinse moisturize all the more agonizing? Knowing you could only look (again at my whim) and never ever touch? Maybe hooding you would be a mercy.

If I have no activities requiring your services as a chauffeur, you will be fitted with a butt plug and set to cleaning my home from top to bottom while I conduct whatever business I deem necessary. On occasion, I will use you for target practice and keeping sharp with my favorite implement of the day. You always sport some physical mark emphasizing my control. Stripes from my cane, streaked kisses courtesy of my single tail. Even without the collar around your neck, your skin will burn with the evidence of my desires.

My dinner will be cooked and served exquisitely by you with every attention to detail. While I enjoy the fruits of your labors seated at my table, you will partake of scraps served to you out of a dog bowl, kneeling at my feet. The end of the evening will see you secured once again to the foot of my bed, in preparation of the rigors and pleasures of the next day.

Is all of that clear? I require service of an excellent caliber, from one whose mind is completely devoted to the task. Many fantasize about such a position, but few, very few, are suited to executing it to my standards. Let me know when you are ready.

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Kink and Tennis: a fortnight of Wimbledon fantasies

I usually have kink running in my head. As would be expected from someone who traffics in sexuality and deviance, there is some type of twist involved in my everyday thoughts, which makes for interesting viewing of vanilla events. My love of tennis is no exception.

For years, I’ve kept up with tennis through watching the Grand Slam tournaments, my favorite of which is Wimbledon. This is an event rife with strict adherence to etiquette, which governs every aspect. There’s something about the tradition of this very special championship which has always appealed to me, a former Anglophile and royal watcher. I thoroughly enjoy this athletic event which seems to be one of the last not to be overwhelmed with advertiser come-ons emblazoned on the playing field, where civility and gentility take precedence over the rough boorishness which characterizes sports in 2013 and even players’ outfits call to mind another time, another world.

The fantasy I enjoyed for the fortnight of the most recent tournament centers around punishing the loser of that day’s marquee match right on the emerald green of the lawn playing courts. This Domina with a long-time interest in Britain’s class structure, eccentricity and kinkiness would enjoy the comfort of the Royal Box, dressed cool and comfortably in white dress and heels, rattan cane leaning against my chair. While I indulged in strawberries and cream, sipping from a crystal flute of champagne, the players would push themselves even harder to win, knowing that the loser would be subject to 2 of my best sets of six. These thoughts have certainly made for interesting viewing, taking into account the big name players that have been losing left and right. Imagine, Roger Federer wearing stripes from my cane!


IMG_2787 - Version 2
My tennis whites!

Of course, the more I think about it, my kink-laden approach to tennis has more in common with games at the Roman Colisseum rather than the tournament at the All England Lawn Tennis Club. However, keeping in mind certain British predilections for punishment, my fantasy may not be too off the mark.

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Phoenix’s Friday fiction – Last Night In Fog With My Goddess (part 1)


This written offering is part one of a somewhat fictionalized account of my recent trip to Portland, Oregon in the company of an eager and devoted pet of long acquaintance…

Oh it was foggy, just like you hear. Of course, i only know this from the brief forays into the outside world. Most of the time was spent inside at the beck and call of my Goddess, the divine Martine Phoenix.

After picking Her up at the airport with a vibrating plug shoved in my ass and chrome ring tight around the thickening meat between my legs, (Her orders, of course) we drive to the hotel. As i accelerate, She increases the amount of vibe for the plug in my ass. The faster i go, the more vibe She gives me…laughing Her delighted laugh all the while. As you might imagine i am moving as fast as i can to get us to the hotel and myself on my knees at Her feet. The buzzing increases to maximum.

i have to use all my concentration as She starts to unbutton my shirt to gain access to the clamps on my nipples that She has also instructed me to wear. Curling Her finger around the chain connecting the pincers, She tugs lightly and laughs Her throaty, wonderful, laugh of pleasure.

Once back at the hotel, She continued the onslaught on my nipples as if She had been thinking about it for the whole plane ride. The feeling was incredible. Kneeling at Her bedside, making those small sensitive knobs of flesh available to Her as she relaxed from Her flight, my Goddess immediately had my cock rigid and throbbing purple-headed. Soon, fresh drops of pre-cum started to ooze out the engorged tip, adding to the already dried layers that already were there from thinking about My Goddess all the time…

…and She instructs me that for the duration of our time together, whenever i sense or notice that pre-cum is dripping out of my prick, i am to gather it on my finger and lick it off, and make sure that i am a noisy slut about it.

i think it was at this point that She reached between Her royal, svelte, never-ending legs, gathered up some of the evidence of Her excitement on the end of Her fingers and proceeded to stick those sacred juice covered fingers up my nostrils…making sure to wipe any excess across my top lip just under my nose.
What heaven i was in. To inhale the essence of my Goddess with every breath…most intoxicating…yes. Dream inducing…quite.
That’s how it began.

Next up, next several hours of heaven/hell that my Supreme Goddess, The Esteemed, Martine Phoenix, put me through…

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Toronto, June 22-26

It’s time for another visit! During this trip, double sessions are available with one of My favorite play partners, Master K. He is tall, fit, Scandinavian, sadistic and possesses a wicked sense of humor. With Our chemistry, forced bi and cuckolding sessions are definitely on offer.

Pre-booking is preferred and a nominal deposit required to reserve appointment time (accepted via Paypal). Visit the “Session Information” section for an idea of what activities make Me smile. Then, contact Me to begin the process.

I’m looking forward to it!

The pleasures of chastity

During my years as a lifestyle and professional Domina, I have always been amused to see how many men are totally into wearing chastity devices. The restraint could be no more complicated than a rope cinched tightly around the genitals for a few hours. At the other extreme, a cage made out of plastic or metal with padlocks and accessories meant to be worn for month-long stretches is a very real option. For a Mistress enamored of sessions involving tease and denial and cuckolding or just interested in total control of their submissive’s every reaction, knowledge of these devices are indispensable to taking playtime to a new level.

One of My devoted pets and I have recently been discussing the pros and cons of various types of chastity accessories. I enjoy the thoughts that invariably arise during our conversations: wickedly teasing him with my perfect figure to get him hard. Laughing at his distress and inability to masturbate since his cock is under lock and key. The pleasure I would continually experience knowing that even in my absence, he is completely and effectively controlled.

A great many men could benefit from being kept in penile lockdown mode especially since they are basically controlled by their erotic desires. I have always maintained that keeping strict control of one’s submissive is a necessary component of training. If one’s penis is kept under lock and key and orgasm is not an option, think how much better it would be to rechannel the energy that would normally go into thinking about sex toward serving one’s Mistress in a more pleasing fashion.

Chastity can be the door to a whole new beginning and deeper understanding of submission.

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Mistress’s weekend – an offering from c.

This entertaining story was written as a present to me from one of my devoted pets.  Hope you enjoy it as much as I did…

Well, let’s see, just thought I would remind all my retainers how nice it is to be totally pampered and catered to.

I have just returned from a weekend in the country at one of my pet’s estates.  Not only did he send a limo for me but it came stocked with some delicious food to nibble and a bottle of champagne he had selected from his own wine cellar.  When I arrived at his manse, I was greeted by a beautiful female servant and relieved of my coat and bags.  A red ball gag in her mouth, clamps on her pert nipples and the smell of hot cunt in the air…I knew she’d come in handy later on.

Immediately, I make my way to the fully equipped dungeon, my thigh high leather boots with the five inch heels crushing the rose petals my pet had strewn on the hard wood floor, that lead me to him.

Ah… There are not many sights as delightful as walking into a dungeon and finding a pet waiting for you, on his knees in the kow-tow position, offering him or herself to their Goddess.

So vulnerable, so giving, so ready to receive my abuse…and what’s this I see…? Are those some drops of pre-cum that I detect, glistening in the candlelight on the floor directly below the purple head of his stiff cock?

That’s what I like to see, and what a fitting compliment.

This makes me so hot that I waste no time. Without saying a word, I approach him and stand with the toe of one of my boots next to where his forehead is touching the floor. He pants in anticipation and I can feel moisture between my legs. He knows that I am going to have him greet me by licking my boots, but I wait.

The anticipation grows. His panting becomes heavier. His cock twitches, and finally…yes there it is…another drop of pre-cum falls from his meat and hits the floor. I rub my leather clad toe in it and tell him to lick it off.

Breathlessly, he thanks me as his tongue laps up his juice. I raise the toe of my boot off the floor, rocking back on the heel and tell him to show me how hungry he is by taking as much of the toe into his mouth as he can.

He eagerly obliges, stuffing half my foot into his mouth.

Oh What Fun!!
Oh What A Sight!!

Now the fun really begins. I order him to his feet and tell him to take his place at the wooden X, facing the wall and to secure his ankles to it.

After locking his wrists in place, I select one of my favorite, custom made canes from the arsenal. This one has soft leather wrapped around one end, so as to prevent slipping from my hand. On the business end, a small hole has been drilled and a thin strip of leather has been slipped through it and tied in a loop, creating a small leather tassel, ideal for tormenting nipples and balls.

I instruct him to stick out his ass and prepare for my first swat. I wave the cane through the air… I love to hear it whistle, and it also keeps him off guard, never knowing which one is the one that is going to connect and then…WHAM!

The cane catches both his ass cheeks and he recoils and yelps his thanks. The burn is instantaneous and almost immediately I can see the welt starting to form.

I connect again, and again, alternating between his tender thighs and his lily white ass cheeks. With each swat to his ass I can feel a pulse in my clit, and I can feel it starting to push against my damp panties as it grows more stimulated and engorged.

I remember the femme slut upstairs, and with the tip of my cane, I press the button on the intercom, summoning her.

More blows are delivered with the cane and I start to dance around, teasing his meat with the leather at the tip of the wood. My pet writhes in delirious pain induced ecstasy as I continue to raise welts on his flesh, making it appear as if he has sat on some sort of red hot, psychedelic waffle iron.

I run my fingernails over his burning skin, tracing and aggravating some of the beautiful welts I have just created.

I unshackle him and have him lie down on his back. I tell him to move his ass around on the floor, further irritating the burning lattice work that I have created.

He moans and groans…how I love those sounds…
…and what’s this?

Why here is that girlslut, just in time. Her chest covered in her own drool, and her nipples throbbing from the clamps.

Right on cue she kneels before me and assumes the kow-tow position, displaying to me the juice running out of her glistening, shaved pussy and the plug inserted in her ass.

across the small of her back, written in garish, rubyred lipstick it reads:


and across her ass cheeks,


And I thought I was having fun already…


I’ve been thinking a great deal about bondage lately. Random musings keep popping up in my head about the best way to put these ideas into motion. The visions include lovely, spacious hotel rooms, my pretty pink ropes, a game bondage bottom and multiple hours to explore all ways the human body can be restrained. Dreamy, right?

The newest component to these daydreams: Pilates positions! I’ve been a devotee of this exercise regime for many years. A certain amount of strictness is needed to properly execute each particular component of core enhancing workouts. Because of this, it’s a wonder that I haven’t thought to combine the two sooner.

What a perfect opportunity; bondage play and slave-exercise training all in one! How it would work: once each position was assumed (i.e., the hundred, roll up, mermaid, double leg stretch, etc.), I would apply ropes both as a way to fully illustrate proper Pilates form and for my personal amusement, of course.

I can see it now. Ropes steadily tightening and locking my subject into position. Instructions about how to regulate the breath and surrender to the position. My delighted laugh filling the space with each new assumed posture…

Who’s game?

Scene from a sultry spring evening

6 of us stood on the corner of Houston and First Avenue, old friends and new on the way back from a low key SM meet and greet a few blocks downtown. The air had the feel one experiences during late August when New York’s heat hangs like a blanket over the sidewalks and parks with a rich velvet quality. It was a relief after the previous days of rain. r looked so adorable standing across from me; 5 foot nothing, curvy, juicy with the loveliest laugh and smile. Earlier at the bar, I had taken the opportunity to feel her out; locking her arms behind her head, I molded her back to my front, tickled her mercilessly and thoroughly enjoyed her squeals, giggles and (half-hearted) attempts to get away.

I couldn’t help myself, standing on that street corner, cars and people passing by. r pulled down the top of her dress a little to show everyone her pretty, lacy bra. I pounced and reached out to draw her closer by the lacing holding the front closed. My hands wandered down the front of her dress and over her breasts, while I said something unconvincing to our companions about not wanting to cause a scene. An idea struck me and I bade everyone to move closer until her face was pushed into my cleavage and she was firmly sandwiched among us all, my hands still stroking and pinching her tits. I murmured something into her hair about not quite finding what I wanted when my fingers struck gold. They clamped down on her nipples, drawing her even closer to me, eliciting a simultaneous gasp and moan from this pretty toy.

“…and what do you say, little girl?” I asked.
“thank you.” she whispered while melting into me.

I released her with a quick kiss on the top of her head and promised myself this wouldn’t be the last time…