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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Feelings of Appreciation while in Session

phoenix009

photo: Anton Wolf, 2002

I love what I do. This particular thought occurred to me while in session recently. My subject was mummified, wrapped securely in saran wrap and duct tape from neck to ankles. I had performed CBT and NT, the aftermath of which were clover clamps weighted by 4g fishing weights attached to my subject’s nipples and a forest of clothespins emerging from just below his waist through an opening I had specially cut and prepared for this purpose. Ball gag forcing open his mouth, spandex hood erasing his features, I took pleasure in beating rhythms on his unprotected soles with the short cane used just for this purpose.

As I unfurled my favorite 3′ single tail, all the better to indulge my wish for giving this pain sissy a taste of my whip without actually causing any real damage, a laugh escaped from the smile already decorating my lips. This is my life. I have chosen to immerse myself in the art of BDSM and am fortunate that play partners of all stripes from all around the world have trusted me with their bodies, souls, secrets and consider me a safe space to pursue fantasies and examine real life. There most certainly are difficulties when one steps outside the accepted boundaries of society; this is not the place I wish to recount them nor the time. All I know is, I’m feeling a happy curiosity about what comes next on this fascinating journey.

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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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