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.

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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Hello, Toronto! I’m Visiting August 28-30th

Rummaging around in the dusty recess of my draft files, I was pleased to locate the following long-lost snippet. Written a bit over 1 year ago, just after my arrival back in NYC from a long sojourn in Toronto, Ontario. It’s kind of serendipitious finding this writing, since I have begun my initial arrangements to head back to my favorite Canadian city in a few short weeks…

I’ve very recently returned from 7 weeks (52 days!) carousing in my adopted city of Toronto and secluded at a cottage somewhere in Wellington County, Ontario. 7 weeks mostly without internet access, barely any connection to New York and the outside world, for that matter. It was easy to become immersed in the world I gradually created: sessions in beautifully appointed hotel rooms throughout the city, late nights watching the moon rise over Toronto Harbor, visits to museums and Queen Street’s art galleries, sailing on Lake Ontario, wonderful meals and excellent company, and slaves traveling to my somewhat isolated country environs with gifts of orchids and stout for introductions and eventual service and correction. Since arriving in midtown on Friday, it’s been rather surreal readjusting to the tempos of my hometown…

I feel so very excited to get back and lay eyes on the CN Tower and my other favorite haunts at the end of August! There are quite a few fetish parties I’m planning on attending, as well as just enjoying the amazing food found throughout the City (Chinatown here I come!). Upon my arrival, I will be staying in a lovely suite in the heart of Toronto, near all major TTC lines. Session requests getting a gold star and causing me to skip with delight include:

* genitorture
* bondage/mummification
* objectification
* slave/slut/pet training
* corporal punishment
* verbal/physical humiliation
* manhandling, beatdowns, light wrestling
* smothering, trampling, ballbusting
* discreet public outings

Of course, deposits are necessary to reserve time on this trip. To begin the application process, access my contact form and fill it out in its entirety. I love the play partners I’ve come to know and enjoy in this lovely city and look forward to meeting more. Make sure to book; my time is limited!

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I scored “100% Sadist” – New York City’s Mistress Martine Phoenix

The term “sadist” refers to one who  practices  sadism, which is defined as:
1. The deriving of sexual gratification or the tendency to derive sexual gratification from inflicting pain or emotional abuse on others.
2. The deriving of pleasure, or the tendency to derive pleasure, from cruelty.
3. Extreme cruelty.
[After Comte Donatien Alphonse François de Sade.]
(from The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language)
I scored “100% Sadist” on this quiz, forever floating around the FetLife neighbourhood. Online quizzes don’t normally resonate. However, this one defined my outlines quite clearly. The sadist in me enjoys your discomfort. I laugh to myself, watching you squirm in humiliating positions at my feet. I feed off the electricity of your sensations in response to sharp kisses from my favorite whip.

Being a sadist is not only about physical pain. My senses are heightened by your frustration, teasing you unmercifully, toying with your desire. Sometimes, feeling your confusion and uncertainty is enough to get me going. I can easily sense the mental disarray created by distance, cool looks or subtly cutting words.

It’s almost scary, the pull I feel probing you, finding those tender areas, places I can worry at, setting you off balance. In my younger years, I tried to keep this need under wraps, the need to make my playmates uncomfortable in some way. I enjoyed completely altering the mood of a room, a palpable shift set off by some seemingly innocent remark, making everyone squirm. Now that I’ve grown up some, I am sought out for this tendency.

 

photo by Victorian_Manor/Rigor_mortis

photo by Victorian_Manor/Rigor_mortis, 2013

This behaviour is not usually accepted in women. Nurturing and schadenfreude don’t really go together. However, I don’t move in society’s usual circles; my pleasure in this existence is having the freedom to do as I wish and indulge in what pleases me. What a relief and comfort to inhabit a realm where I can express all facets of my personality to its fullest extent.

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Play and Inspiration

I’ve been holding myself back for so very long, haven’t allowed myself to play for my personal pleasure in quite some time. It feels like a whole section of myself just shut down, dark and waiting for inspiration which I got in spades this past week on my first trip to the Pacific Northwest with a long-time devoted pet. When I think of him during that 5 day period, my memories bring a smile to my lips contemplating him decked out in lacy panties and stockings keeping him on the edge while I came over and over filling him with plugs and cocks fucking him wearing nothing but my knee highs/patent leather heels/strapon/smile compressing his skin with my arsenal of clips and clamps leaving the most delicious marks on his body with my riding crop and whip and my essence in his nose and mouth in as many ways as I can think of to amuse myself.

Sigh.

Now that I’ve returned, it’s a slow re-adjustment to the eastern time zone, brain still floating on a cloud of nearly continuous play and good service and toothsome food and attentiveness and no sleep mixed in with the excitement from that new city and its dramatic mountainous landscape. My focus shifts and I feel that something sleeping inside begin to stir as I contemplate my newest amusement, a young, eager boy, wishing to become my slut and fucktoy. Nothing has happened yet, it’s as if I’m taking the time to savor and enjoy our initial intercourse from a distance, fully appreciating the anticipation being created. However, when I allow myself to do so, I will take pleasure playing with him, mouse to my cat.DSCN0330

It’s good to start feeling balanced again.

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BDSM fiction – sissy’s First Visit (part 2)

Mistress returned with a basin of water, scissors, and a razor. “Babette, watch as I shave the last vestige of your manhood away from your clit! Don’t twitch now,” she laughed, “I would hate to have an accident.” Slowly, steadily, Mistress Phoenix exerted her ownership over me and the hair around my clit disappeared. Once I was hairless she unchained me and ordered me to my knees.

I thanked her profusely and she allowed me to worship her feet for several minutes. “That’s right, Babette, you sissy; worship my feet, lick all the dirt off of my heels, you dirty little whore. Why, Babette, are you a whore? Has your pussy ever been fucked? By a Mistress? By a man? With a tramp like you, it’s so hard to tell.”

“Please, Mistress; if it makes you happy, make me your whore. Take my virginity as a trophy!”

“Perhaps later, you little slut. Right now, I want to experiment on this new body I own. UP!”

Without thinking, I rose to my feet. Mistress Phoenix slapped me immediately. “Up! means on your knees, you dumb slut. You never stand in my presence unless I order you to. I have already told you what happens when you disobey my rules. Crawl to the horse and drape yourself over it.” Attaching cuffs to my wrists and ankles, Mistress Phoenix secured me to the spanking horse. “Now, in one hand I have a paddle. In the other I have your friend the cane. You determine the instrument that will bring you pain. Pick a hand.” My head was spinning from her mind game as she made me pick my own instrument of torture. I humbly begged for the left. It was the paddle!

“And, what did I say would happen if you were disobedient again, slut?”

“I would get two strokes instead of one, Mistress.”

“Correct. So, nine times nine makes eighteen.”

Mistress Phoenix laid into me. Eighteen strokes with her wooden paddle. After each stroke I had to scream, “I will obey Mistress Phoenix!” at the top of my lungs (I’m very sure there was plenty of laughter from whoever heard that!). When she was finished, Mistress Phoenix lectured me on my shortcomings as a sissy and told me to obey her rules or risk being banished. I begged for forgiveness from the bottom of my heart.

Unchaining me, Mistress Phoenix ordered me to my knees and then commanded “UP!” I rose to my knees. “I see that you are learning. Spread those legs. Wider!” Mistress then bit my nipples, the feeling was amazing, a mixture of heat and intense pain sent shock waves through my body. “Do you like that, bitch? Maybe you will like this, too!” She attached nipple clamps to my tits. “How do those titties feel now, Babette? Do they hurt? Does this hurt?” She grabbed the chain connecting the clamps and pulled back, I gasped in pain and struggled to stay motionless. “Take the pain for me, show me your devotion, Babette. Only the devoted are allowed to serve me. Do you want to serve me?”

I gasped, “Yes!”

“Then, suffer!”

Mistress Phoenix took a small bucket of clothespins and moved to my clit. She attached what felt like a hundred, but was only ten pins to my clit. “If you show me your devotion, then I may reward you. My rewards are only for my best slaves and sissies. If you please me, I may allow you to worship my legs. I may even allow you to worship my ass! Would you like that?”

“Oh, yes, Mistress Phoenix, please let me worship your wonderful legs and marvelous ass! It is all I hope to achieve.” Mistress Phoenix ordered me to kiss her feet, all the while the burning pain in my tits and clit mounted. She finally forced me to stop and ordered me up.

“Close your eyes, sissy; don’t more.” She then started taking the clamps and pins off my body. It was a slow process, every time blood returned to a portion of my body the pain was intense. Sometimes she toyed with me, removing a pin from my clit and quickly reattached it to my tits. I gasped back a scream. “Suffer for me,” she teased. Finally, all of the pins were removed and Mistress Phoenix ordered me to my knees again. Without a word, she walked away. I was tempted to look over my shoulder to see what new torment she was preparing for me, however, I had learned my lesson. I existed to obey Mistress Phoenix’s rules.

She returned soon and sat on my back. “So, bitch, you have never been fucked? Well, I am going to fix that. Starting now, you are going to get very used to butt plugs. Some day, it will be dildos and maybe, the real thing. It depends on whether I choose to own you.” With that, Mistress Phoenix lubed my virgin ass and ordered me to relax. “That’s right, I know that you want me to take you, oh yes, beg me to stick my butt plug up your pussy.” Oh, did I ever beg! “That’s right, beg me, tell me know much you want a cock in your pussy!” What that, she slowly and deliberately forced the butt plug into my pussy. When I felt that I could take the pain no longer, she would stop, coax me into relaxing and excite me by making me beg all over again. I was amazed at the depths of degradation a horny male would go to please a dominant Goddess. It was almost no time at all before I was fully impaled on the plug which she had forced into me. She taunted me again, “Tell me how much you like my plug in your hole, tell me now, bitch!” I did, oh the shame that I felt, but I could not help it. As those of you who have served her know, there is no denying the wishes of Mistress Phoenix. What she wants, she gets. Resistance, as they say, is futile.

Mistress Phoenix ordered me to follow her. On my knees, I followed across the dungeon. On the command “Up!” I rose. She then applied lipstick to my lips and handed me a pair of panties. Laughing and telling me that I looked like a little sissy, she ordered me to rise to my feet and to follow her. She quickly led me to the laundry room in the rear of the studio.

“Babette, in that hamper you will find a load of dirty towels. Put them in the washing machine. When you have finished that, you will clean the bathroom. The cleaning supplies are in there. I expect the mirror, sink and toilet bowl to be spotless when I return. I am going to work on the computer; you have forty-five minutes. Get to work!”

With that, I felt to my tasks with vigor. My goal was to make Mistress Phoenix happy and I intended to do just that. The time passed quickly; before long, I heard the click of heels in the hallway. I put the cleaning supplies in the bucket and dropped to my knees. Mistress Phoenix entered.

“Kneel in the corner while I inspect this place, bitch!” I did. It only took Mistress Phoenix a couple of minutes to look things over. “Very nice work, sissy; you have potential. Let me tell you what I am going to do. You missed a spot behind the toilet. That will cost you ten strokes with the cane. Crawl ahead of me and drape yourself over the horse. When I arrive I will administer your punishment.” Mistress Phoenix laughed and continued, “If you don’t move during your beating, I will allow you to cum.

“I have several rules for my slaves. I love to see my sissies eat cum. If you want to impress me, you will beg for permission to cum and eat it. The choice is yours, however, bear in mind that I am deciding whether or not you are fit to be my sissy. Now, crawl.”

I crawled to the dungeon and my mind was spinning. I knew that Mistress Phoenix desired that I eat my own cum and so further humble myself. In a flash, I knew that I much submit to her desires, no matter how it humiliated me. Positioning myself over the horse, I awaited Mistress Phoenix. I could hear her coming down the hall. I tensed and waited for the fresh assault on my already sore ass. She entered.

“Strip down those panties, bitch, I don’t want anything between my cane and your ass! Count and scream; I could use the entertainment.” With that, she began caning me again. By the stroke of five, I was whimpering. By nine, I let out a yelp. I screamed on the tenth.

“Very good, Babette, you barely flinched. That’s the type of devotion that I want from my slaves. Off the horse and on your knees. Stroke that clit of yours! Tell me how much you want to cum, but don’t you dare do it! Not until I’ve given you permission.”

I began to play with my clit. Mistress placed a paper plate on the floor. She had written ‘sissy squirt here’ on the plate. “When I allow you to cum, you will squirt on that plate and if you want to please me, you will beg for permission to lick it up. Now, look at me, look at the beautiful Goddess who is watching you in  your lipstick, while you play with that clit. Beg, slave. Beg to cum!”

I began to beg in earnest and finally Mistress Phoenix told me to cum. She burst out laughing. “What a whore! Go ahead, whore, eat your cum.” I did, all the while feeling small and humiliated.

When I finished, Mistress returned my clothes. “Do you have my tribute, sissy?” I gave it to her.

“Well Babette, you did reasonably well. Do you feel that you have enough to write your first story?” I answered that I did. “You have a long way to go before I will even consider you as my personal sissy. I want you back here in two weeks. You will be paying for the next session! You will bring a maid’s outfit, either pink or black and white; you choose. Just make sure that it is sexy and that I have easy access to your clit and your pussy. You will be cleanly shaved when you arrive. During your next session, you will again have the opportunity to earn the privilege of kissing my ass; I suggest you work harder because you were not even close this time. And, I here’s something else to think about before your next arrival…are you worthy of a golden shower?”

Mistress Phoenix led me to the door. I foolishly asked for permission to wipe off the lipstick. “Oh no,” she said, “wear that out, sissy. It will help keep you focused on your new station in life.” With that, she patted me on the butt and pushed me out the door. My last impression was of her laughter as I was turned out into the street wearing lipstick.

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BDSM fiction – sissy’s First Visit (part 1)

As we spoke on the phone, her velvety tones were irresistable; that, my friends, sealed the deal. While I had initially been attracted by Mistress Martine Phoenix’s beautiful pictures and enticing interests, just listening to her voice put me over the edge. Dropping to my knees while still on the phone, I humbly begged to be her servant. She only laughed cruelly. “Silly boy, what can you possibly offer me?”

I told her of my five years experience in the scene, my skills as a writer and lastly, most importantly, of my desire to serve her! She paused as if in thought. “You can write? Perhaps I may have some use for you. What are your interests?” I hurriedly told her of my desire for humiliation and corporal punishment and how I wished to serve her. I told her of my experience as a houseboy and that if she but mentioned the word, I would be honored to cook and clean for her. Mistress Phoenix regarded me for a moment before answering, “I believe that I can use you. I want additional stories for my web site and you may be just the slave to provide them. However, I have no need for a houseboy.” She laughed as if struck by a sudden thought. “I can use a sissy maid, though; you DO like humiliation, don’t you? Well, here’s the deal, bitch: you come to me, pay for a session and I will begin your transformation into my sissy maid. You will write about your degradation and experiences while serving me. If you do well after the first session, I may make you my bitch. What do you say? You have thirty seconds to decide.”

The chance to be her sissy maid and write about it? Oh, the humiliation! Oh, the chance of a lifetime! I jumped at it, begging for the opportunity to be her property. Telling me to prepare myself, she ordered me to arrive at the studio no later than 6pm the following evening. She gave me directions and hung up the phone. I was trembling, scared, excited and totally elated. I prepared myself for my new life.

I found myself waiting to ring the studio buzzer at 5:55, arriving early to make sure there would be no mistake and could barely contain my excitement. The receptionist greeted me, “Mistress Phoenix will be with you shortly. Go into the dungeon, strip and call me when your clothes are folded neatly by the door. I would hurry, if I were you. Mistress Phoenix wants you naked and kneeling when she arrives.”

I followed directions and called the receptionist when I finished. She came, glanced at me and took my clothes. “These aren’t folded neatly, I assure you that Mistress Phoenix will be notified. Are you wondering what I am going to do with these? They will be shown to Mistress Phoenix in their current state. She will give them back to you if and when she decides!” With that, she walked out smirking. My humiliation had already begun.

From my lowly position, I heard the clicking of heels approaching the door. It opened. “You must be the new slave, writer and soon-to-be sissy.” I kept my eyes focused on the floor and was graced with a glance at her beautiful feet encased in her high heels. She ran her hand through my hair and slowly stroked the side of my cheek. Roughly grasping my mouth she squeezed and forced my head up. “Look at me! You won’t get the chance often, you lowly wimp. Tell me what you see!”

She was perfect, beautiful beyond words. However, I tried. “Mistress Martine Phoenix, divine Goddess! You are so wonderful, so beautiful. Your dreadlocks are perfect, your catlike eyes and full, luscious lips make me weak! And oh, Mistress, you have the body of Venus come to life. Please do what you will with me. I exist to serve you!”

Mistress Phoenix looked fantastic in her leather corset, black leather skirt and knee high leather boots; certainly the picture of a Goddess. One of her hands grasped my face, another carried a cruel cane. She slapped my face and told me to look down again. “Listen carefully, slave; I am going to lay down the rules that will govern your time with me. If you disobey my rules, you will be punished. If you forget my rules, you will be punished. From now on, your name is Babette, my French sissy.” She walked behind me. “Starting today, you no longer have a cock and balls, you have a clit.” She kicked me in my new clit. “I expect it to be shaved when you serve me. You will not speak unless spoken to. You will kneel on all fours when in my presence at all times, unless I give you different orders. When you kneel, your head and eyes will be kept down and your legs will be spread. When I say ‘up’, you will rise to your knees only. You exist to serve not only myself and my female friends, but anyone that I order you to.” She grabbed my face and allowed me to look at her again.

“Do you understand my rules?” I gasped that I did.

She moved behind me, “I understand that you failed to fold your clothes neatly. Let’s see, you have two shoes, two socks, panties, pants, a belt, a shirt and a watch. That’s nine articles of clothing and you will receive a stroke with the cane for each article. Count!” Her cane rose and fell nine times; I struggled not to scream. Next, I felt her hand softly stroke the welts she had made. “If I need to punish you for disobedience again, it will be two strokes instead of one. Now, thank me for correcting you and crawl to the table.”

Mistress Phoenix then strapped me to the bondage table face up. Walking away she cheerfully stated, “Babette, you lucky slut, I am going to give you plenty to write about today!”

To Be Continued…