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:

“I AM A SLUT”

and across her ass cheeks,

“USE ME”

And I thought I was having fun already…

Sexy Ebony Domina takes Toronto!

Sounds like a great news headline, right?

I’m pleased to announce my first stop on the Mistress Martine Phoenix World Domination Tour: Toronto!  All you lucky Ontario subs, fetishists and slaves will have the chance to make my acquaintance from December 21-24.

Curious about who I am?  Read the “About Me” section.  Want to know more about the type of play that interests me?  Read “Session Information”.

See you in the Great White North!

Film Still #1 Ethnic Kink

For the last few weeks, I’ve really enjoyed filming scenes with Ethnic Kink, a great BDSM production company based in New York.  Of course, clips are becoming available on each of their related sites, but I thought it would be fun to share film stills of my favorite scenes.

Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

Bondalates!

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?

Stockings, or , My first fetish

I was in 10th grade when I discovered stockings. Not “pantyhose” (which is what most people think of, completely confusing the descriptors).  Stockings. Fully-fashioned, nylon or silk, toe/heel reinforced, garter belt required stockings. This discovery was almost more earth shattering than having sex for the first time a couple of years later.

Jenny was my inspiration. A senior at the parochial school I attended on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, she was the most sophisticated girl I knew.  My affair with cigarettes began after countless times watching her smoke Benson and Hedges 100s while sucking on cinnamon Life-Savers.

There was something subversive about the way Jenny’s legs looked to my still innocent eyes, so smooth in her nylons, garter belt clipped to the tops stopping mid thigh concealed under our winter uniform of gray wool.  I began to imagine what it would feel like, slippery, silky fabric against my own skin.  Eventually, my thoughts and curiosity brought me to a small lingerie shop not too far away from the high school I attended.

Regardless of what the ladies staffing the shop thought about this wide-eyed girl with knee socks and book bag tentatively drinking in her surroundings, they graciously shared all manner of knowledge about legwear: stay ups or garter fastened? silk or nylon? seamed or plain?  I was completely hooked; the majority of my allowance expended on an ever growing collection of retro glam intimates.

To this day, those early lessons hold firm.  I still drool over a perfectly stitched seam trailing from the point of a French heel.  The lack of availability for good silk stockings is a constant irritation.  3 garters per side on a belt are always better than two.  And, most important, no dress or skirt set is complete without my special secret underneath, decorating my legs.

I adore being a girl.

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How I spent my Friday night.

I love my friends. They certainly know how to facilitate an interesting evening! As a birthday present to my new favorite kitten; I was asked to make a nice package of some absolutely gorgeous rope to surprise her. Of course, plain bundles of rope have no spice, so I took it upon myself to enliven the presentation.

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…

My daily (not so) grind – or, why I love my occupations

After spending very many years in the corporate world, shuttling through the fields of law, advertising, and fashion, I am very appreciative of my current autonomy. To this day, I still don’t know how I was able to muster the enthusiasm needed to devote a huge percentage of my time contributing to someone else’s bottom line; being fulfilled in life is something that has become more and more important as I get older. There is a great deal of responsibility in being self-employed (quarterly taxes, anyone?) but I wouldn’t trade the peace of having full control of my day-to-day schedule for anything. Without a doubt, my lifestyle is not for everyone or even something 80% of the population would even understand. Regardless, the feeling of standing back and viewing a favourite toy in tight bondage, gagged, plugged and clamped in certain tender places affords me a deep sense of peace and serenity.

As well as amusement and amazement at the havoc I create.

Studio memories

I was suddenly struck by memories of the dressing room at Arena Blaze. It was a small, oddly shaped space, holding floor to ceiling racks of trunks, television, couch and always slightly too many people, adding to the cozy vibe. During the summer, the front dungeons were icy oasis of constantly running air conditioners and drawn velvet curtains, all the better to keep the room comfortable for clients, at least initially. It was in the dressing room where all my best memories of working in a studio began. Dead phone evenings with 4 other girls on shift, back door open to a canyon of buildings in midtown Manhattan, funky R&B slipping quietly from the staff radio. Games initiated in fun in-between sessions, riding high off the heavy dose of scene adrenaline, involving crops, floggers, hands and vibrators. The sheer concentration that can only be emitted from a woman completely intent on drawing the perfect eyebrow line.