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.
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.
Like Willie Nelson sings in his famous song, “I just can’t wait to get on the road again”.
I adore road trips. Not too much beats sleeping/playing/generally being bad in hotel rooms, starting out driving at the crack of dawn to beat traffic, eating in roadside diners and checking out the art and the local color where ever I end up. I’ve spent lots of time traveling throughout Ontario, Canada over the past 3 years and while I love the Great White North and feel very excited about my next visit, it is time for me to pay some much needed attention to points south, specifically Philadelphia, PA, Washington, D.C and Baltimore, MD from January 27 to February 2, 2014.
Advance appointments and deposits are definitely required and the interest I receive from subs/slaves/fetishists/masochists in these 3 locations will determine the length of my stay in each city. I feel excited to bring rope, TENS unit, CBT/NT toys and various whips canes and crops as the contents of my toybag. Tall heels, leather, latex, lingerie and stockings are part of my wardrobe.
I am also looking for video slaves for clip filming purposes. To make inquiries, contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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!
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.