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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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!

 

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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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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…