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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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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Tangled in rope

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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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