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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Session policies and availability: week of February 3rd

Friday is here and I am still on the road. I know my loyal band of subs, gurls and painsluts are eager to come kneel before me when I get back to NYC so, here’s a little reminder about my session availability for the upcoming week:

24 hour notification before any session; 50% deposit required. You can read about my interests here. I look forward to seeing you upon my return.

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Ideal service, 24/7.

You know how important service is to me and you want to be my slave. That’s not a position I take lightly. You will be expected to be impeccable in everything you do and, of course, there is a routine I’ll expect you to follow. Listen closely and pay attention.

Are you prepared to sleep on my floor, chained to the foot of my bed? After I unchain you, position yourself at my feet and worship them thoroughly while I lounge, planning my day. Breakfast is always your concern; acquaint yourself with the foods I like best and make sure they are constantly cooked to perfection. Once the kitchen is cleaned, everything put away in its proper place, you will be properly hydrated with a heavy stream of my golden piss. You’ll make sure to swallow every drop.

Is it necessary to emphasize that your service will involve being firmly in chastity? I didn’t think so. Any slave/pet/toy of mine would never be allowed to have control over such delicate body parts. You would be firmly locked away at my whim and pleasure. Doesn’t that make drawing my bath and viewing my exquisite body while I soap lather soak rinse moisturize all the more agonizing? Knowing you could only look (again at my whim) and never ever touch? Maybe hooding you would be a mercy.

If I have no activities requiring your services as a chauffeur, you will be fitted with a butt plug and set to cleaning my home from top to bottom while I conduct whatever business I deem necessary. On occasion, I will use you for target practice and keeping sharp with my favorite implement of the day. You always sport some physical mark emphasizing my control. Stripes from my cane, streaked kisses courtesy of my single tail. Even without the collar around your neck, your skin will burn with the evidence of my desires.

My dinner will be cooked and served exquisitely by you with every attention to detail. While I enjoy the fruits of your labors seated at my table, you will partake of scraps served to you out of a dog bowl, kneeling at my feet. The end of the evening will see you secured once again to the foot of my bed, in preparation of the rigors and pleasures of the next day.

Is all of that clear? I require service of an excellent caliber, from one whose mind is completely devoted to the task. Many fantasize about such a position, but few, very few, are suited to executing it to my standards. Let me know when you are ready.

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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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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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Thrice Screwed Cock Ring by Sex and Metal: a review

I love CBT. My pleasure in taking control of my male subjects in such a direct and efficient manner is no secret. Although fingers, feet and teeth are always wonderful methods of torture for that particularly sensitive area, I am always looking for toys and devices to augment my imagination and expand possibilities. So, imagine my glee when I stumbled upon Sex and Metal’s website and their selection of cock rings.

As indicated by the company’s name, metal is a primary material for their devices. I just had to try out one of their lovely pieces for myself and requested “The Thrice Screwed Cock Ring”:

 

My new favorite torture device

My previous experience with cock rings was either a single piece of metal of varying width which was worn around the base of the genitals, encircling cock and balls or many slim metal rings attached on a leather thong used to trap the penis (i.e., 9 Gates of Hell). As much as I love the idea of those, reality was always very disappointing. After the initial difficulty of getting my subject into the device, which, on occasion was a torture session in and of itself,  they always seemed to be nothing more than decoration (this is, of course, from my perspective. I’m sure a bottom wearing the items in question would have a very different idea of heavy pieces of metal hanging from their genitals than “just decoration”.) Not so with this one!

I couldn’t stop caressing the cock ring when it arrived in the mail 2 short days after I made my request. My imagination totally kicked into overdrive the moment I opened the shipping box. Its metal is smooth, no rough edges any where, beautifully joined and pleasingly heavy. As clearly shown in the picture above, in addition to the expected rings to be placed on your willing victim, my eyes especially lit up at the 3 screws strategically placed just where the penis’s corona would end up. Playtime couldn’t come soon enough!

As I found over the course of my experimentation was how easily it slipped on, a far cry from my and my sub’s usual struggles to fit an erect penis into a series of unforgiving metal rings. I was able to secure it further to the body with the use of hemp ropes, making sure shrinkage/slippage didn’t interfere with my plans, integrating it easily into my bondage. I especially loved how easily the screws held my area of interest in place. Smooth threads made for easier pressure application at very specific points; fun to manipulate.

The best part, though? Easy conductibility of electricity. Not having a violet wand at my immediate disposal, my TENS unit served a purpose. Who would have thought that conductor pads wrapped in strategic places could have such a huge effect? I look forward to more experimentation in this area.

In all, I recommend “The Thrice Screwed Cock Ring” to anyone that enjoys quality craftsmanship, versatile design and a wicked new twist on the old. It feels easy to anticipate that this CBT device and newest addition to my toybag will be getting lots of use in the near future.

Many thanks to Jolyon at Sex and Metal for letting me try this out!

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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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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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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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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…