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
patience
passion
pinstripes
packing
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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Subway Thoughts: Bondage and Domination

I’ve been taking the subways a huge amount lately. There really is no better way to make one’s way around, especially at holiday time. As a New York City Dominatrix, people’s public ill manners have certainly set off many reflections on behavior modification, bondage and domination. If nothing else, I have wonderful mental images to distract me from my irritation.

NYC Dominatrix Mistress Martine Phoenix

I find nothing objectionable about sitting in this manner when I’m doing it. However, when some male sits on a bench designed for 3, spreading his legs out to the extent no-one else can sit with him, he is screaming to be disciplined. There even seems to be a Tumblr blog devoted to pictures of just this phenomenon. Check out Men Taking Up Too Much Space On The Train to get a better (??) view.

It wasn’t much of a stretch of the imagination to see those mannerless males bound in rope, not to be comfortable, but to serve My sadistic whims in a whole new manner.

Isn’t this an improvement?

rope and leather bondage

This certainly feels like the bottom is much better utilizing the space.

casting and duct tape bondage with electrodes

Of course, one cannot just go around imposing one’s will on an unsuspecting public. However, I am a Disciplinarian and Behavior Modification Specialist. I believe that most males today could do with a sound whipping and heavy dose of ego-shattering humiliation. There is no better way of starting the training process with lessons in stillness and obedience, two areas sorely lacking in today’s society.

After all, who more qualified to bestow the hard lessons involving bondage and domination and most of all, submission to Mistress’ whims and will, than Me and other Women of My ilk? You may be a slow and reluctant student, but always remember, I relish emphasizing the points I need to make. Especially using my favored tools of rope, whip, cane and cuff…

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NYC double dominance with Mistress Wynter!

Double Dominance with Mistress Wynter of New York City

Hello All!

I am pleased to announce that in NYC for the month of August, the gorgeous, legendary Mistress Wynter (seen in the above picture, http://www.mswynter.com) has graciously offered to conduct double dominance sessions with me in her beautifully appointed studio, Wonderland (http://www.mswynter.com/site/wonderland-studios/). Because I want to learn from Mistress Wynter’s years of experience, preference will be given to certain session requests such as:

medical play
corporal punishment
humiliation
electricity
genital tortures (e.g., CBT/NT)
sensory deprivation
domestic scenes
fetish exploration (leather, feet, boots, etc.)
genuine servitude

I feel so very excited about this turn of events and expect that having the chance to play alongside of Mistress Wynter will make the end of summer much hotter than expected. Don’t miss the chance to witness us together in action.

Send all polite inquiries to info(at)mistressphoenixjade(dot)com.

We look forward to your service.

Control.

Recently on Twitter, there has been a hashtag making the rounds: #notyourrescueproject. It’s been giving me a good deal to think about since I first saw it and started reading stories of various sex workers behind the tweets. An overview can be found here.

I made the conscious decision to enter this career. I was neither forced or trafficked into it. If given the choice, I would certainly make the same decision to become a professional Mistress. I have always considered myself a sex worker and feel real solidarity with other types of providers: strippers, PSOs, escorts, cam girls, porn stars. There are certainly easier ways to make money, more respected, less marginalized. However, I continue with this one.

When I began working in the domination houses of NYC, I vaguely comprehended the level of independence a truly successful Mistress enjoyed enabling her to conduct life in a way inspiring envy to the general population. Even now, it amazes me how many cottage industries have been established in the fetish and porn industries, not through the traditional companies, but through the skill and creativity of ladies I have so much admiration for.

For the most part, clients and close friends evince shock when they realize all my long term plans involve continuing along my chosen path. I am continually shocked by their complacency and willingness to be locked into the ordinary, average. Of course, there are other things in my life that fulfill creative urgings; photography, drawing, painting. However, nothing really challenges me the way crafting a new and fresh session for a long time play partner or satisfies the way certain of my skill sets is able to do. Not surprisingly, I delight in the control I get to experience everyday in this line of work.

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Session policies and availability: week of February 3rd

Friday is here and I am still on the road. I know my loyal band of subs, gurls and painsluts are eager to come kneel before me when I get back to NYC so, here’s a little reminder about my session availability for the upcoming week:

24 hour notification before any session; 50% deposit required. You can read about my interests here. I look forward to seeing you upon my return.

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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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Beatings.

Lately, beatings occupy my mind. The consensual/non-consensual kind. From the moment I first picked up a flogger, pain toys and their usage have been a true fascination that never grows old. Contrary to popular belief, not everyone who comes to see me enjoys receiving pain; actually, most are rather scared of it. My favorites are those that ask specifically for what I have come to think of as a “fine beating”.

Taking time to secure you with ropes, cuffs, chains and the like is sometimes a necessary beginning. At others, I cherish the opportunity to simply order my subject of the moment to hold position over a spanking horse, onto the overhead chains or pressed up against an available wall. Previously making you choose from my arsenal of paddles, crops, canes, floggers and whips 3 items you most would like to feel me use on your skin. Of course, no part of the body (within reason) is off limits. Back, chest, inner thigh, palms, genitals, foot bottoms. A careful warmup with whatever draws my eye first.

Memorable beatings usually include my singletail, a treasured possession. Few are able to stay the distance with that implement and my arm which at times feels unstoppable. I leave horizontal marks ladders on one side of the back, verticals neatly arrayed along the other, just for giggles. Once warmup for me and my subject has ended, I work from top to bottom, neck to bottom of thigh mirroring those movements on the front. Constant check in to see the condition of my canvas while I slowly paint delicate red streaks from 3-4 feet away.

What’s this all about? I happily identify as a sadist, deriving pleasure from the administration of pain to others. Pain is my gift, a pure expression of my desire towards the one serving me whether that service lasts for the hour or a lifetime. It is the quickest method available to take you away from your ego, whatever keeps you from being your most elemental, submissive self. It is your willingness to submit to my desires and take that journey which completes the circuit.

All courtesy of the mutual gift of a beating.

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Trampling you.

I enjoy trampling and stomping on my boytoys, crushing various vulnerable body parts. From my early play days, wrapping someone in sheets of plastic, mummifying them and turning them into my rug, doormat, trampoline or whatever allowed me the excuse of stepping, jumping and kicking with abandon would bring such a thrill to my skin. One client was transformed into a punching bag that I worked like it was a job. Another was my dance floor and I giggled as my high sharp heels found their mark from one end of him to the other. My feet are a wonderful tool for all this tortured attention; strong and flexible and deft. stripping myself arsenal down to just hands and feet can bring out some primal feelings.

Recently on Niteflirt, I enjoyed a very interesting conversation with a crush aficionado. At first, I felt hesitant about the discussion because of its negative associations. However, as the call went on it became more and more engrossing. From his point of view, crushing was all about being objectified, turned into Mistress’s “special victim”, having a laser attention focused on him, as well as enjoying being completely helpless and at Her mercy. Not having really explored the fetish past enjoying trampling and stomping and crushing various doormats and rugmen of my acquaintance, I found myself being drawn deeper into fantasies of being 100 feet tall, legions of tiny supplicating, begging men at my mercy.

Mistress Martine Phoenix, NYC dominatrix

I stumbled across and couldn’t get enough of the hot and cheeky images. I think I’m spending more time there than I care to recount, poring over drawings of huge gorgeous women. Inevitably, all this new data input is bleeding into my unconscious. I’ve been waking up from recent dreams where I’m standing over tiny creatures, laughing manically as my shoe comes down, crushing them. Suddenly, I’m looming over metropolises kicking down buildings, destroying trains, cars scurrying desperately from my path. Drowning people in endless golden showers…

Mistress Martine Phoenix, NYC dominatrix

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Tangled in rope

SMF_7864

 

I love rope. This has been the case almost from the beginning of my entry into the wonderful world of BDSM. I’ve attended many rope dojos, debated over the merits of hemp vs nylon vs silk with many a practitioner, strung up willing bodies more times than I can count and have offered myself up as well. All this in the pursuit of getting to know my chosen medium as well as I can. However, as with any practice, there is always more to learn.

Bondage has been coming up in my thoughts a great deal lately. Time allowing, here are rope shares and tying intensives I’d like to attend, experiments in hemp treatment and conditioning I’m preparing to embark on, bodies I imagine in the rope hanging suspended. However, the question keeps arising, why do I tie? What is it that I am trying to achieve when I have a pile of rope and a pliant body? Is it bondage purely for the sake of ornamentation? The pleasure I take in restricting another’s movement, controlling their position?

There is always some kind of immobilization I require of my submissives and play partners. It could be mental or physical or both. On occasion, I will feel amusement simply ordering my bottom to hold a given position while I test their determination to follow instruction. However, it is more satisfying for me to KNOW that they cannot move. Rope layered on rope layered on skin, holding them quite literally in thrall to my whim.

As a present to me, my pet has become quite adept at preparing hemp rope. Just running the newly treated lengths through my fingers, feeling the soft heavy slightly oily texture coil and uncoil around my fingers, imagination starts to run. I see myself standing in , my favorite room at Parthenon, subject at my feet…

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